Sometimes

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

the most important thing is stop your work, get in your car, and drive to your father's house, when he's not expecting you. To find him out back, watching the birds in the trees and at their well-stocked feeder. To sit with him through mourning doves and orioles, woodpeckers and finches. To leave a book, a new one, behind.

10 comments:

Priya said...

And how lovely that must have been.

lib said...

a special time with a very special man you are blessed to call father, dad...special moments that time embraces....unexpected moments of joy

Susan Taylor Brown said...

Oh my. I've been reading your blog and not commenting but this one stopped me in my tracks. What a perfectly precious memory.

septembermom said...

Jump for those moments of connection. I love the spirit of these words. I miss spending time and having conversations with my Dad. It's a loss in my life that is nearly impossible to recover from. I do look for opportunities to "be" with those I love as often as I can.

Sarah Stevenson said...

I love this post, and the photo, too. Like a mini-poem.

Cynthia Pittmann said...

I couldn't agree more! What a lovely time to spend with your dad.<3

Woman in a Window said...

If only.

I've a step father but somehow doing this for my father would be so different.

Bet he's so proud.

Anna Lefler said...

This is my favorite horsey picture. Look at those delicate legs...those saucy hooves.

Someone's ready to tango.

;^) A.

Sherry said...

I love this photo, too.
And the post...takes me back to our family visits to my great grandparents' home on Sunday afternoons.
Have I thanked you lately, for your extraordinary blogging? Well, thanks so, so much.

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