Was reading a blog posting by my fellow blogger buddy Slyde over at Slydesblog. He is reminiscing about his grandfather that he lost two years ago. They were close. Really close. Slyde relates a little story about time spent with his grandfather that initially probably meant nothing. But after his passing, those little stores make up a lifetime of memories that make the departed live forever in our hearts.
Five years ago, after my father passed away, the rest of the family was sitting around the living room reminiscing and shedding a tear or two as we all realized that the man we had all loved and depended on for so long would never be coming home again. This is a healing process. All families do it when they morn a loved one.
It was during this gathering that a story was told by my nephew Korby. When he was a young child in his early teens, my brother and sister-in-law would hand off one of their children to my parents for the summer. My parents would structure Korby’s summer with swimming lessons and tennis lessons and trips to the mall, etc. This is a long running tradition in our family. The summer with the grandparents.
It seems that during one summer, my father took Korby to the local swap meet to sift through the junk to see if anything was worth buying. After wandering around for a while, my father came upon a set of hubcaps that looked like they would fit his Honda Civic that he loved to drive so much. He paid for them and Korby helped him carry the hubcaps back to the car.
There in the parking lot, they tried to pound the hubcaps onto the steel wheels of the Honda. They actually seemed to fit and my father was pretty pleased with his find.
Korby and my father got back into the Honda and proceeded to drive home. After driving several miles my father approached a “T” intersection where he had to make a right hand turn. He stepped on the brakes and the Honda quickly came to a stop.....but the hubcaps didn’t. The hubcaps proceeded to roll forward off into the desert.
“Grandpa, aren’t those the hubcaps you just bought?”, Korby asked?
“Nope”, replied my dad.
He made a right turn and proceeded home.
My father never made mistakes.....or at least never admitted to them.
If you ask my wife, my father lives on in me. The similarities are unmistakable.
I sure miss him.