Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Kite


So who’s going to make him a kite, Dad? Sometimes I wish things were different, boy, we screwed up so bad between us. My husband has two left hands as you know. If there is anyone that can make my little boy a kite, it would be you Dad…

You made us things when we were little. You helped with assignments. Remember that Plaster of Paris set that you bought me one Christmas. We moulded the shapes and then you showed me how to paint it. I remember I brought home an assignment once where we had to create a Netbal field on a carton so you went to school to make notes so we could get the lines on the field right. I got an A for that assignment, Dad.

I always thought that if I ever have children that need assignments done I would bring them to you. You would be creative enough to think of something when the time is right. Those memories are all I have. Sometimes I wonder if you still recall those times when we were little, Dad?

I have to build him a kite. You showed me how, remember?

You are missing out on so much, Dad.

I still love you.

2 comments:

  1. Amazing how we miss the people that crossed over everyday, but just somedays MORE than others.

    ((Hugs))

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  2. The sad thing is my father is still alive it is my Mother who I miss the most she is gone.

    Tx XXX

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