Monday, September 13th, is a day I can’t help but remember. One year has passed since my Dad passed away at ninety five and three quarters years old. Spring came and the house and yard seemed empty, very much changed. Some plants had even disapeared.
My Dad could always make a sound exactly like a robin and when I heard those first spring robins I said, hello Dad, I’m glad you’re here.
My dad was not very tall, but he was a powerhouse of energy. His favorite work was restoring old houses. The house we now live in was his last house to restore. Thirty years ago my Dad retired at sixty five and undertook the project of bringing this grand old house back to life.
It had been built in the 1800s and was abandoned with the south end open to the elements. It is in good condition now and the yard reflects the loving work my Mom and Dad put into it. I strive to keep the beauty here that they both planted and built. I am grateful everyday.