To Every Season

In about a month it will be a year. Day before yesterday I awoke early from a dream where I was having lunch with my Dad here at the ranch: sandwiches. I was talking, he was nodding, about all the work we had gotten done here – and he liked it.
I wish he and Mom had been able to come up here to the Foothills, but with her on oxygen it couldn’t happened. Yesterday was their anniversary. I miss them a whole bunch.
Now my friend Kevin is having a rough go of things, and against his will his daughter has set-up a page. The last couple years of the Rendezvous as things wound-down, his attendance was my magnet to go.
Damn.
At least the air has gotten better here (for now), sorry we sent the smoke over across to all y’all…

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About NotClauswitz

The semi-sprawling adventures of a culturally hegemonic former flat-lander and anti-idiotarian individualist, fleeing the toxic cultural smug emitted by self-satisfied lotus-eating low-land Tesla-driving floppy-hat wearing lizadroid-Leftbat Califorganic eco-tofuistas ~

7 thoughts on “To Every Season

  1. All I can say is that things slowly get better over time. It’s been over two years since my own father departed us, and life goes on. Not a day goes by when I do not think of him, though.

    • The last three weeks sucked, but the air has cleared out and blue skies lift the spirits – but we’re not out of danger and I have a bag packed…
      I’m glad that I had 60 years knowing my Dad, and I’m sure you feel the same about your time – but the missing goes on.

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