today i cried in Target as i spied this simple pair of angel wings in the ...can't believe its getting close to...Christmas section
i recognized that it may be a very difficult holiday season
i had previously walked down an aisle and saw some golf items and immediately thought,
Daddy is so hard to shop for, I wonder if he'd like any of these
my heart sank as i caught my own thoughts.
i miss him sooo much,
it aches how much i miss him
as i am sure you know, as you probably have been unable to avoid knowing,
that i am hosting my Craft Explosion event in a few days
my goal was to have the garage cleaned out before then
much to the delight of my hubby
i haven't given up yet, but there may be some last minute shoving into the corners of the house
i am forcing myself to sort through boxes that have remained sealed from human eyes for the past decade or more
college notebooks and papers kept on the off chance i would need them...if i needed to use my teaching degree perhaps
in one such notebook i came across two versions of the same paper for my English 311 class in May of 1999
its funny because in reading the remarks from the professor, she says, 'how can you avoid the sentimentality of your subject matter?'
well, i guess that is just nearly impossible for me to do
my writing is rather sentimental
it comes from sentiment
that is what drives me to sit and write
this portion is from my rough draft
written by a 21 year old me
**
The zesty tang of a peanut sauce, the nose tingly aroma of an unrecognizable substance, and the consistent slurp of long noodles. This combination of newly found savors kept my mouth exhilarated and found my fork greeting my parted lips again and again. A typical fish aquarium was at my right. This was definitely one of the best dates I had ever been on. Being only fourteen I had not been on very many, but daddy always made time for each of us. It was my turn, one on one daddy-daugher time, enjoying Daddy's favorite food-the kind that awakens your taste buds from a long sleep: Thai.
Although Daddy was busy fulfilling his various church callings and working, I always knew his family came first. During volleyball season in high school I would look out into the sea of faces and spot a black three-piece suit carrying a cellular phone there to support me. And when pumpkin time arrived, our twinkle toes gracefully stumbled across the daddy-daugher dance floor.
I think I have always been a daddy's girl, maybe not any more than a mommy's girl, but definitely a daddy's girl. At the age of twenty-one by lips still form the word "daddy" instead of "father", "Dad" or even "Russell" and I have to be reminded that I am a little too big to sit on Daddy's lap. My mommy told me that when I was a baby, the embrace of my father's arms was the only thing that could put me to sleep. As each year continues to pass, some adding voices to the chorus, feet run, arms reach out, and voices cry "Daddy's home".
**
at the age of 34 my lips still form the word "daddy" and my feet can not wait to run into his arms again,
for Daddy is truly home
