I suppose anyone who has lost someone feels their someone was special, and it's true. We are unique and our loss is unique.
My father was born with a heart defect, and this made me fearful (that he would die) and yet appreciative (because I was alive and he was still alive to be my dad).
One of my earliest memories is saying to myself "I cannot get to 40 pounds. If I get to 40 pounds, my Daddy can't lift me or give me piggy-back rides any more." I had just been weighed and my parents discovered I was 39 pounds. At 40, all the fun would stop. My Dad could not lift that much. Right from the start, my dad was different from other dads. I had to protect him and make sure he lived. I could not turn 40 pounds. We know how that worked out. :-)
Post a Comment