It's Father's Day today. It's impossible not to think about my dad, now gone more than 18 years. It's hard to believe it's been that long. For anyone who has never lost a parent, it's an odd feeling how the memory of them remains fresh, while the years quickly slip away without them.
Dad never got to meet my boys. I like to think about how much he would have loved them. My dad was good with kids. I remember how children always gravitated to him, his good nature and sense of humor drew my cousins and the neighborhood kids to him. He was truly a very good man.
Sometimes I fear I talk too much to my boys about "Angel Grandpa". I think...is it fair for them to hear so many stories? is it meaningful? do they really care at all about this man they will never know?
Of course, my two sweet boys give me the very answer to those questions. About two weeks ago, this is the conversation from the backseat of the car:
5 year-old: Mom...does Angel Grandpa know us?
9 year-old: Of course he does because he lives inside us. We know all about him and he knows all about us.
5 year-old: Good. Because I like to tell him secrets sometimes.
9 year-old: He is also our Guardian Angel. I can feel how much he loves us, can't you?
5 year-old: Yes. He tells me he loves me all the time.
The above photo is a favorite of mine. I took a picture of it as it is in my baby book, our ages written to the side of the photo in my mom's writing. I always loved holding my babies face down on my chest while I rested too. Just see here.