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Tuesday, June 20, 2017


I went to Stillwater, Oklahoma this weekend, to my father's memorial service. At some point, I will bring some of his ashes back to Mississippi and place them with his mother and father, and his brother who lived only one day.

My dad is woven forever into my heart. I am so lucky to have had him for 57 years of my life. Many people lose their parents much earlier.

I will never forget his voice and his laugh, his amazing stories.

Last night I found his final letter to me, a sweet note telling me how much he loved me. The handwriting was so shaky--how long did it take him to write?

Yesterday, I cut back blackberry vines on a hot, bright day--so clear and bright, and suddenly felt I was with him in Mississippi, chopping back vines to clear a garden space. The scene set itself so clearly in my mind that I felt transported there.

I think we never get over losing our parents. My relationship with my father was complicated, with a tangle of history made of shadow and light threads. I am even grateful for the complexity.

Hard to believe he is gone.

So it goes.

Here's a photo of him in Hawaii, my very favorite one.