bird by bird

During summers when I was little, my grandpa would stop by around noon to take his "dinner" break at our kitchen table. He'd park his truck in our drive-way and take off his boots and his cap as soon as he walked in, his arrival signaling it was time to eat. Sitting beside him, my feet dangled from the dinning room chair as I ate whatever grandpa ate (but in pieces my mom had cut up for me). After 'dinner,' grandpa would make his way to the La-Z-boy recliner in our living room where he would prop his feet up and turn on a Western to listen to while he snoozed. With my grandpa's head reclined and his thick silver locks perfectly accessible to me, I'd gather my hair accessories and a chair to reach, if I needed it. My clumsy fingers would comb his hair forward and backward, practicing making a perfect part. I'd use barrettes and hair ties and bows, attempting to braid and curl with my little fingers. Eventually the Western would end, the credits would st

Instructions for living your life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. --Mary Oliver

Last night my dad was in my dream. People were moving in and out of our lake cabin and everyone was happy to see my dad, but not in a "you've risen from the dead!" kind of way so much as a "oh, cool you're back. We missed you." kind of way. He laughed at me when I was playfully pushed off a dock into the lake, and later in the dream he told me, "Your sister hasn't given me a job yet for her wedding, but I know it's coming." Throughout the dream, I tried to get his attention so I could ask him, "Can you see us when you're not here? Do you know what our lives are like now?" but I woke up without an answer. I miss him still, so much, especially now as I help AKL plan her wedding without a father to walk her down the aisle. I'm so grateful for dreams like last night though--to hear his voice and his laugh and to imagine that he's somewhere watching and waiting for his instructions for Allison's big day.