It's hot for us this weekend here, but today there is a breeze, and for those of us who weathered the firestorm years ago that breeze is unsettling. Then, for me personally, there is the fact that today is the thirtieth anniversary of my father's death. Yes, it gets easier, but it doesn't go away. He would delight in so many things were he here: his great grandchildren, how well his grandchildren have turned out, travel, golf, perhaps a little dog of his own again. He definitely would have remarried, and we would have laughed together. He became less judgemental as he got older, and he was more open to new ideas and speaking about his feelings. He might have talked about his childhood, his parents, the war. So much lost. Of course by dying he has missed the death of his son. The person who unintentionally broke his heart in a way no other could have. I know for certain he never would have stopped loving any of us. I aspire to some of his qualities and attempt to overcome others. He was ultra competitive, and I've weeded that out of myself. But his loyalty and devotion to family I carry on as best I can.
So there is a sadness in the air for me. The fear of fire, the drought, the political climate, the abuse of our natural resources, the passing on of the generations. I'm praying for healing and letting go and fighting for what's good in the world, all at the same time.
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