Visiting Mom and Dad

Good morning,

My Honey and I took a trip out to visit my Mom and Dad recently.  They are buried here in this beautiful place, but I feel I they are with me every day in my life wherever I am. 

When out taking pictures I feel my Dad with me.  I remember him helping me to frame a shot when my hands were barely big enough to get them around a Brownie Hawkeye camera.

When I am in my kitchen baking or in my garden planting I so often think of Mom.  She made wonderful things for us to eat.  She planted a beautiful garden.  She sewed every costume for every ballet recital for me for ten years.  She shared her talents with us and taught us how to do it ourselves.

While I am knitting or crocheting I think of her when I reach for the scissors that my Mother used for so many years or her button or thread box to see what is in it to match my current project.  I love having all of her needlework tools and supplies to hold in my hands and use.   She tatted and sewed.  I knit and crochet.  When my children were little, I made 90 percent of their clothes and mine.  No matter what I did she marveled at how beautiful it was. 

My Father loved birds.  He loved photographing them or just sitting outside to watch and listen to them.  When he moved in with us after Mom had died he loved to sit out on our patio and just watch the birds.  By then his eyes were too dim and his hands too unsteady to hold a camera.   But, he still loved his birds.

When I took the above picture of the feather in the grass at the cemetery, I didn't realize I was getting a reflection from the sun.  Or, maybe that isn't just the sun smiling back at me....

When My Honey and I are out traveling I remember all those Sunday rides with Mom and Dad. I remember how much fun they had traveling together after they retired.  I remember taking Dad on road trips after Mom died and he no longer spent every moment of every day caring for her during her final illness.  I remember how grateful he was that I would spend the time to take him out.  The pleasure truly was mine.  I wish I could do it again today.

Most importantly, Mom and Dad shared their love which is still warm and alive inside of us.

 Mom and Dad are here and they are even closer.  They are inside of me.

Mom died in 1985 and Dad died in 1998, yet I still feel them so very close to me. 

Lois

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 Parenting With Love And Logic (Updated and Expanded Edition)

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