Monica J. Griffith

Monthly Archives: June 2014

Memories 061514

I looked for the perfect card for you. I scoured several stores. Hallmark, American Greetings…none were just right. I was sad, as I browsed the Father’s Day section this year – as I was last year. There are no words, written by others that I can share with you this day.
I cannot send you a card this year or make my Sunday call to you. I have no gift to wrap and give to you. My only recourse is to send my thoughts to heaven in hopes they will reach you. I promise not to cry – I know how your girls’ tears make you sad!
Things are good with me, Dad. You would be happy with the way my life is going. I love how you always asked how I’m doing – and really cared about the answer. Sometimes, I made it sound better than it really was; yet, you knew! Always asking if there was anything you or Mother could do. My reply was often: just being there is what I need – and it was! Knowing I could always call and hearing your voice made everything okay.
There are so many wonderful memories of our calls, but most of all our visits and little road trips when I was home. I loved taking you to the store. I know, it sounds so simple! But when you and I would head out to the market with a detailed list from Mother (including the aisle numbers), I knew we would be chatting and laughing and planning. You were such a flirt! I love how you knew the names of all the girls at the store and you would have to go into every area – pharmacy, deli, bakery and meat department – just to check in on the ladies! Oh, how they loved it when you came by! How many things did you buy from them, just to have a chance to chat for a bit? What makes me smile, is how Mother always seemed to know what you were up to – she’d ask me if you checked in on all your ‘babes’! What a hoot!
I still look for the ‘Santa Clause’ melon in the spring – you and I discovered that one together.
One of our last big trips together was to Bloomington to celebrate your 70th wedding anniversary. Oh my! I was driving, you riding shot-gun and Mother all settled in the back seat. We were about 15 minutes into our 90 minute drive and you looked over at me – more a glance – and sheepishly asked “are we there yet?” Then you cracked a huge grin and giggled like a kid! I guess that was pay-back, huh?
My thoughts, often when I am frustrated, confused, exhausted…are ‘what would Daddy do/say”. You know, that has gotten me out of more jams than I care to remember.
Your advice, wisdom, sense of right and wrong, sense of humor, and strength has carried me far beyond my childhood years. They have guided me through love, children, work, play and life.
Grand memories continue to be my anchor. I love you, Dad. I miss you. I’m going to cry now – so I’ll just say: Thank you and Happy Father’s Day…until we meet again.