The air felt heavy. A light drizzle spotted the windshield but billowing gray clouds looked like they would burst open at any moment and release a deluge. I turned into the cemetery to visit my parents’ grave and made sure all the date plates were still in place and the flowers unfaded. I ran my hand over the edge of the tombstone engraved with stalks of wheat. Sheaves of wheat denote someone has lived a long fruitful life. It is also representative of the “first fruits”, with the promise of more to come. That was a message of hope, a hope of seeing them again on the day we will be reunited. Somehow, I always felt shortchanged, thinking they both died prematurely. I turned to go and said my goodbyes for another time.
As I drove away, I told Daddy (who wasn’t beside me), “But, you were supposed to move to Montana with me.” A wave of loneliness washed over me. Well, it was not so much loneliness as it was a missing-my-daddy moment. At one time, I thought he was invincible. For twelve years after the passing of my mother, Daddy was my sidekick. He occupied the passenger seat of the car. We took many day trips and visited all kinds of places. We still had many miles to travel and many things to enjoy, but I am so thankful for the years I had a companion to share the scenic drives and visit with people we didn’t know and some that we did.
A 70’s mellow tune came over the radio. The artist sang words of the death of his father, and later his mother, “I cried and cried all day, alone again, naturally.” The tears were not the kind that people cry in their beer to drown their sorrows but the kind that comes from a heart of loneliness and loss of someone dear.
Whenever Daddy and I went on an outing, or a doctor’s visit, his favorite place to eat was Steak & Shake. Don’t ask me why – I don’t know. Sometimes I didn’t even ask him where he wanted to go, I just went someplace else. But, today, I drove into Steak & Shake and got a Daddy sized snack. When I pulled around the building, I saw the most beautiful roses – variegated peach and creamy yellow. Daddy would have liked them. I couldn’t help but smile. I told the girl who waited on me how gorgeous the flowers were and said, “They have brightened my day!” As I ate my snack of salty fries, I thought of the many hours spent with my sidekick. A salty tear escaped, and I wondered if it had fallen on my fries and added some extra flavor.
My destination was the quilt shop. I browsed a bit longer than usual, running my hand along many of the bolts of fabric, pausing to consider the textures and vivid colors. I thought of my mother who could piece a quilt together in her mind, each color complementing the other to complete her masterpiece.
The ride home was bittersweet. Mama would have asked if I knew where I was, but would have enjoyed the outing, and Daddy would have loved the back roads through the pastoral scenes on the countryside. What a blessing to have been granted many years to share those mountain trails, back roads and bolts of color.
Blue sky pushed its way through the masses of gray. The sun shone on the bright yellow field, making the flowers neon bright. I gathered the sheaves of memories, held them close and made my way home.
