The laugh from the the gut, without sound....I remember.
His break of a smile...I remember it well.
So often in the day to day living of life, I spot him.
In a strangers smile...
The first time it got me was in church. He was an elderly man sitting in front of me.
Those are my Dad's hands.
I could no longer hear what was being taught from the pulpit, I just kept staring at those hands.
Taking it in, remembering Dad's hands, knowing eventually the gentle man would exit the church..
Like losing sight of Dad...again.
I was introduced to a sweet elderly man at the river last weekend.
As I took his hand to shake it, I saw my Father's hands again. I may have held on longer than normal, he didn't seem to mind...
My eyes met his and there they were, beautiful eyes, cloudy and shaped just like Dad's...
He didn't stay to chat for long....I watched until I lost sight of him.
The memories of my Dad are many, far to many to account for.
I see him every where.
A green freshly mowed lawn.
The rose bushes he bought me.
Old Fords :-)
My son's love for fishing.
Admittedly, I find myself looking at the hands of strangers. The leap of my heart when I spot those much like his.
Father's Day, surely he deserved a day of his own.....for the rest he gave to us.
How I look forward to our heavenly reunion, where I'm sure to receive a Poppa hug.
It's what echos from my heart today.