Sunday, March 18, 2018

dripping in butter...

Lobster.

It's funny the things that connect us, the links to long forgotten memories.  And the calm and peace it can bring to you.

I am not a lobster fan.  I'm not sure why, it's just not a favorite.  I can eat scallops until I am sick, I love them, but lobster, not so much. 

My oldest grand daughter on the other hand.  I'm not sure she's ever met a type of seafood that she hates, but she LOVES lobster. She's only 11, but she's been a seafood fiend for years now.  I remember Hubs and I celebrating the 4th of July with her about 4 years ago, at her favorite Chinese buffet, as she said... "I need my white fish".

My Dad loved seafood also.  Especially lobster.

Last night the girls were back from their spring break and we finally got to celebrate my girl's birthday.  We let them pick the place, knowing that sweet grand daughter was going to vote for Outback - and lobster.

Without a moment's hesitation my girl ordered her baby two lobster tails, I was actually ordering a lobster tail with mine because I know how much she loves them, and I know that I won't eat it. So the sweetie ended up with three.  My girl loves lobster too, but she always hands it over to the grand daughter.  Never a moment's hesitation.

The love of a parent and the bonding over lobster gave me the first moment of peace that I have truly felt in two weeks.  I remember long ago my Daddy walking away from an amazing lobster dinner in Charleston, because even though I had asked them to not put any raw oysters on my plate, they did.  I was turning green, I simply couldn't handle it, and even though he really wanted that fresh lobster dinner we walked out and went somewhere else.

I have felt guilty about that for years. 

But sitting there last night, watching the love my daughter showed her baby girl, I finally understood.  Daddy wanted that dinner, but he wanted me happy far more.

It's been two weeks today and the skies aren't bright and beautiful like they were that beautiful moment God called him home.  They are still gray and cold.  I think I am developing a mental block.  I seem to do that.  When something is too much I block it out.

I remember all of the details of my Grammie's death, the call, the flights, my arrival, the pain of seeing her at the funeral home - first time I'd ever experienced that - but I can't tell you the day or year.  I just know it left a gap in my heart.  I still have the fabric I bought to make a quilt, it made me think of her for some strange reason.  It still sits on the shelf in my sewing room.  I will probably never make a quilt with it. 

I want to.

I can't.

My son-in-law passed a few years ago.  Again I can describe the night, the actions, the emotions, the moments before and after.  Pretty sure he was the one that pushed me down the stairs that night, the cause of our delay to my daughters house, made us late enough that we were there when she got the news.  I am fairly positive it is the 10th or 11th of September, but the year has left me.  And I am sure the date would too if it wasn't near that fateful day in September.  We didn't have a funeral his mother had his body flow home to Washington.  Saying good bye was not the same.  And yet I still can't remember it.

It's only been two weeks, but I found myself struggling to remember the date last night.  I drifted to sleep not remembering, but trying so hard to do so.  I had to look at a calendar, I had to actually look.  It's been two weeks.  I am sure that I am pushing it aside.  I am sure that my heart and head want to forget that date.

I am doing something different this time.  I didn't look at pictures of Grammie for years, I couldn't. I still struggle.  I didn't talk about any of it, of who she was and what she meant to me.  I just shoved it away.  If I didn't face it, it hadn't happened.

I've grown up. 

I'm sure my Daddy is up there smiling down, knowing he helped shape 4 amazing daughters, knowing that he impacted many lives, and I am positive that he is eating lobster.  He's healthy and happy again, he's probably off fishing or maybe driving a big ol' truck.  Maybe in heaven he's had the chance to make peace with his father.  And I know he's loving on those silly bull dogs of his.  I am positive that he and Grammie are together.


I know that the wait for us to join him for us will be long, we will hurt and miss him.  For him, it will move quickly, it will seem but a moment. 

I guess it sounds silly to say that, but I truly feel it. I feel calm in my heart knowing that he is at peace.  I sat and shared memories with Hubs this morning.  The bits and pieces that I could remember, the parts that I am not sure if they are truth or simply family lore. 

I am framing a picture he sent me years ago, from his youth, with all but one of his siblings.  He looks so handsome in it. It fills my heart with love.

I am talking about my memories.

Watching my grand daughter munch on that lobster last night, dripping with butter and smiling in joy.  I could see my Daddy.  That link to my past.  Just as she and I shared pictures of us with our Dads last night.  Knowing they were together again in heaven.

The links are strong. The past, present and future intertwine and move in such a fluid motion. 

Cherish those moments...

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