Going into last week I was a bit concerned by the amount of activities we had committed ourselves to. It was looking like a week of overload on all cylinders.
But due to some cancellations and one night of illness, I only had one night away. The other nights I was mostly at home and as it turned out, three of those nights Lauralea was out.
I had time to think. Sometimes that's bad, this time it wasn't.
Upon reflection I don't think I've had a week to do that kind of quiet thinking, or maybe I wasn't ready for it till now. But last week seemed to be about my Dad.
I realized that we don't have a picture of him up anywhere. Like if we don't get a picture of him up some place, I'll forget him. I don't want to forget him.
And the letter. Once a long time ago Dad wrote me a letter, a decent 4 or 5 pager. He would occasionally write something along with mom, but this was from him. It came after he and mom had just met Lauralea for the first time. They liked her a lot and he wanted to take the time to tell me some things.
I remembered that letter last week, and I couldn't find it in the regular places. I was getting concerned it was gone. But last night I found it in a box of love letters. Of course that's where it would be.
As I searched through the boxes I came across letters from both sets of grandparents, and my mom and dad. Out of all that crowd, my mom's the only one left now. She's only 63, but she's the only one left of those who led the way.
Suddenly feels like too much loss over too short a time.
Mostly that's where I've been these days, (Thanks to those of you who checked up on me.)
The season's starting to change in a dramatic fashion, and I'm preping for Board meetings this weekend in Calgary. Between that I've got a lot of praying to do for our kids, and getting things worked out for Refresh next weekend.
Loss is a part of life. It just is. It would have been nicer to see dad not get sick and suffer so much, and it would have been cool to celebrate his reaching his 65th birthday and retirement. But it isn't going to be.
Fair or not it is what it is, life. And moments or days of grief just remind me of the value of that which was lost to me.
At least my memories are fond ones.