I bought this pin this morning.
Wanted to let you know.
It is a wishbone pin, Dad.
I bought it for myself
because today is your birthday.
Bet you thought I didn't remember.
For so many years
I always meant to call,
but I never knew what to say.
I was 8 and
my first memory of you was how you hung
wishbones on your
chandelier to dry.
And you took one down
and we each held the delicate bone
(always pulling in opposite directions)
and made a secret wish together.
I remember I got the larger piece,
so my wish was supposed to come true.
But it just never did.
And now you are gone from me
forever.
You left without saying
a
single
word.
Left me with nothing.
but this dead birthday phone call
and this damn
wishbone chandelier.
What a sweet letter...
ReplyDeleteI love wishbones...very cute pin!
I like the new header!!
Have a wonderful day!
My Dear Jen...
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry that you never got that chance to really know your dad. He was a wonderfull man, had a heart of gold and would give the shirt off his back to you. We both know what caused him to be a Dr Jekel and Mr Hyde. I am so glad that you still have some of the good memories of him, I only wish you had many more. I have not forgetten your request, I am now starting to move to the other house so as I start to pack and find things I will put them in a box for. I only wish that we could have been closer as well.
All my love.
Lonnie
Dearest Jennifer,
ReplyDeleteAs I walked home today from work, I thought about your post, Wishbone Chandelier, and the meaning of it on your Dad's birthday. It brought me back to my historical fiction in progress, MORNING SUN, to my father and his father. As you already know, the story is mainly set in Viet Nam from 1932 - 1975 and is inspired in great part by my father's journal. In the journal, my father wrote about losing his own father at age twelve. He wrote, "It was the saddest day of my life."
During my research for MORNING SUN, I had asked my father, his two brothers, and their mother (now my late grandmother) this question: "How did you survive the war?" They said it was their faith and my grandfather watching over them, keeping them safe. They may not have always known (or believed) this as soldiers during the war, but sitting in the kitchen with me when I asked my questions, they knew they were alive because their father had been guiding them through the light and the dark, through the war.
Early in my novel, my main character's father died. His mother said to him: "Ask for him. He is not dead. He is listening."
Your father is with you. He is at your side. Ask for him.
Keeping you in my prayers,
Mia
oh, sweetness.
ReplyDeleteI have no words of comfort.
your artistry must be some kind of comfort to you, no?
sigh.
fathers can be so difficult... if they're with us or not...
Dear Jennifer,
ReplyDeleteAs always, praying for you.
Love, Karen
That is so sad Jen. I hope one day you will find inner peace and have fond soft memories, rather than the aching, heart wrenching ones. Thinking of you always
ReplyDeleteT
i
ReplyDeletelove
you
dearest...
so much.
hugs to your aching heart.
xoxo,
c
Dear Jennifer,
ReplyDeleteThinking of you! Your letter makes me want to get in my old van and drive right-up.
~G~xo