My dad, with his trademark cap and toothpick.
“For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death.” ~ Romans 8:2
1. A lot can happen in a year.
2. I watch the sun set almost every night. My final thought of the day, every day, as the sun slips past the Pacific horizon, is about the Light my dad sees in Heaven, how it’s never-ending, pure, eternal.
In the duckblind, circa 1971.
3. In so many ways, I can’t deny that I’m my father’s son. It used to take me aback when I’d see photos of myself that looked like my dad. Now, I know it’s coming, it’s no longer a shock, and the resemblance grows stronger every day.
4. Simple pleasures are among the best.
5. During the last two weeks of his life, my dad knew he was dying, and he did so with great dignity.
6. My best friend was also a good friend to my dad, and a week or so before he died, the two of them shared a great laugh.
7. During his life, a lot of folks saw some really good qualities in my dad, that I didn’t see until later.
8. But he was still one hard-headed cuss. I’m so glad I’m not that way. 
9. A few weeks ago my mom reminded me that my dad always preferred a special meal on New Year’s Day. It’s a folklorish tradition that has to do with prosperity in the New Year. He would always tell her, “Make all I can eat.” My dad loved to eat. And at the end of the meal, he would moan and groan about how much he ate. I know mom misses some of dad’s quirks.
10. When you lose a parent, you think more often of your own mortality.
-30-
love you babe.
this is beautiful; i especially loved the photo of him in the cotton field.
Thanks. The shot in the cotton field was a very special day in 1991. He was looking over what (at that time) was his best crop ever.
i’ve not seen a ready-to-harvest cotton field in years and years, but i love that nostalgic blanket of white across those sandy soils! how great it always is to get that bumper crop out of the fields before bad weather puts it on the ground or makes it sprout/mold on the stalk!
anniversaries of the deaths of our loved ones are often difficult. you surely miss him a lot. z
Thanks for this. My dad died a year earlier, so I can identify with what you must be feeling. Hey, #10 is so true for me…