my mind doesn't often remember things from this time - but today it did.
This post isn't about the time, or what happened or the relationship with my husband.
This post is about my relationship with my dad. There are times when words just don't say what you need to say and Dad and I are like that a lot.
It was the drive past the cemetary that triggered these memories. I drive past this cemetary almost daily, but today I took a different road and it went along a side of the cemetary that I don't usually see. It was the "new part", with the empty space - the unused plots.
Five years ago my husband was dying and my dad didn't know what to say. What can you say?
What he did was hand me an envelope. In the envelope were the deeds to a cemetary lot (well, half a lot, which is two plots). It's half of the lot where my mom and dad will be buried. This is a very small cemetary and there is no space left in the "old part", where my grandparents, two of my great-grandparents - let's just say lots of relatives.
I have a cousin who had been wanting to buy these plots; we're a close family and she wanted to plan to be buried next to Grandma.
What my dad did I think bothered her. But it also sent a message:
I may live far away, I may not be planning on moving back. But I'm family - and my dad was doing what he could to take care of me.
The cemetary plots were his way of telling me that he loved me and wanted to take care of me
Rewind to 1987
Some things are just hard to say - you can say them, but sometimes words just aren't enough.
My son was born, early and tiny - he was in NICU. My mom and dad drove 170 miles every day until I was out of the hospital (they bent the rules for moms with babies who had to stay so I was there a couple of days longer than I had to be). They were both still working full time, so it wasn't easy on them. But they did it.
I told my dad, "The only way that I can truly tell you how I feel about you is to name my son after you."
I still don't have the words that can adequately express - but hopefully every time my dad thinks about my son...he knows.