Sunday, October 5, 2008

October 6th

They met on a busy street corner, she no longer remembers the reason why. She was dressed in that awful black and red, polyester movie theatre uniform. Stopping on the way to work.

"You look beautiful", he says.
"Right", she replies a little skeptical.
"No, you are beautiful, and I'm not just saying that because I have to, I really mean it"

He snaps a picture.

She gives him a quick peck and she races off to work.

One of the reasons, she loves him so. The only one who has ever called her beautiful. If she only knew their time together would be over in a few short years, she would have spent more time talking and exploring the relationship, instead of going out with her friends and wasting time flirting with other boys. Years later, she will look at that picture and remember that little meeting. Remember those sweet words and his gentle way.
"Try this", he coaxes.
"I don't like onions"
"But this is sweet, it is almost like eating candy"
"that is because you like onions.
It is not sweet. It tastes like an onion."
Watching, in awe, as he paints a perfect replica of the photograph. Long, strong, strokes of paint on the canvas. She is jealous because she has no artistic talent.
Secretly wishing he would show her how. Enjoying the easy silence between them as he goes about his task.
He is trying to teach her to dance. Holding her close and encouraging her to relax. "Just follow my lead" he says. But she is embarrassed at her clumsy feet, stepping on his toes, but happy to be in his embrace. He is patient and won't let her get away. He is smiling at her and she can feel his love for her with every sway.
Offering her cinnamon disks that he keeps stashed in the glove box. He is playing big band music as they drive along, sometimes he sings show tunes like Oklahoma or South Pacific. Not just the big, sweeping popular songs, but the little ditties too. She will eventually play those albums over and over and learn the words so she can sing along someday.
He sings the Pepsi Cola jingle from the 20's or 30's, "Pepsi Cola hits the spot, 12 full ounces that's a lot........."

He is teaching her to love those songs. They will forever remind her of him.
Teaching her how to turn a screwdriver, telling her that "righty tighty - lefty loosey" saying she will remember every time she picks one up . Letting her help when he is building things or teaching her the names of tools so that she can help with the projects. Training for later on in life, when she is alone and must do it all herself.
Small, meaningless conversations, brief encounters, happy vacations, long conversations in the car, learning the little details she never knew about her history, the small things that mean the most. They say hindsight is 20/20, but for her it is a bittersweet memory of him.

She wishes that she could turn back time for just a moment to hear his voice or hold his hand. To say things that should've been said. To say good bye and tell him how he is missed.

Tears well in her eyes and fall gentley down her cheeks as the memories come.

I love you dad.............


  1. You are so fortunate to have such memories, mine of my father have fainted so, I was so young. I can still see a picture of your dad smiling in my mind. This writing is heartwarming, your dad would be proud, as he always was.

  2. I lost my dad in Jan and I love this! And I love your blog.

  3. I don't know how I missed this - I just read it after reading part 2. Thanks for sharing your memories, you brought them to life in your writing. Beautiful.

  4. I love you, Lisa, and am so happy to be able to remember through your memories put into writing.
    Dad was a special man, indeed.


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