I think I’ll plant flowers this year. It’s an unusually warm time right now up here in the mountains. Even though my studio sits next to a stream that runs year ’round with snow melt from Pikes Peak, I can sit in the sun today in a tee shirt … and it feels good.
I haven’t had flowers on the deck across the stream for two years. My dad’s flower boxes still sit in an awkward stack in the corner of the deck where he left them. I’ve looked at them since he’s been gone and there was always some kind of odd comfort in that lonely picture, reminding me how big the hole is that he left in my heart … and that sadness feels wonderfully awful.
Today would be the kind of day he would have loved; outside preparing the soil in his boxes for the bouquet he would select every year. I remember how he’d tell me about his selection and how these would be the finest flower boxes ever…
Why didn’t I take more pictures? I should have interviewed him and produced a beautiful tribute documentary with nostalgic soundtracks, the wash of the stream and his unforgettable voice and that smile. I was busy…I guess. There would always be time…
March 28, 2012 at 12:57 am
I’m sensing a sculpture in the future of that very scene. The memory of your dad planting, wouldn’t that make a good one!
March 28, 2012 at 12:32 pm
The picture of your Dad waving, is telling us He’s on the other side waiting for us cheering us on!
Sherri Pat Rothwell
March 28, 2012 at 2:01 pm
I loved this moment of sweet reflection on such an amazing man. Makes me miss mine too. Always will miss him, as you will miss yours. How fortunate we were to have had such dad’s.
March 28, 2012 at 3:13 pm
Not only are you a sculptor, you are clearly a crafter of the story. Can’t wait to see the flowers you choose, and the story behind this year’s planting.
March 28, 2012 at 3:21 pm
I’m with you 100%, Brother. Miss him like crazy every day. I hope you aren’t feeling any regrets, though, with your last comment. Your family videos over the years and the tribute video you created for Dad’s funeral were genius. That’s not overstating……………..genius! Going out to the gravesite later today………………….We’re together in spirit, Scott………..you and me.
April 2, 2012 at 1:11 pm
I miss Daddy Sam so much. Thanks for this excellent post Scott. Reminds us all of what we’ll see once we see him again.
April 11, 2012 at 1:50 am
Tears poured when I read this – I miss him so much! There are stories and sermons that I wish I could have recorded. He always could make you feel like you were so special. I love the picture on the bridge – that’s the way I always think about him. Greeting you like he’s been waiting for so long.
December 6, 2013 at 3:47 am
Going back thru your archives…
makes me weep, reading this. Your daddy was such an influence in my life, when my soul was thirsty for the gift of encouragement he offered. Living water. Hope in darkness.
You are this same ongoing gift to me, my big brother.