2008-12-10 - 4:32 a.m.

Today was a good day. For the first time in quite some time I woke up sincerely happy.

Most of you know I lost my dad August 16th. For the past four months my mind has been a whirlwind of reflection. When I carve new figures I want to call daddy. The boys do something that tickles me and I want to tell daddy. I cook a pot of homemade soup and I want to talk to him while I am preparing the ingredients. We return home from a reenactment and I want to tell him all about it. I miss him so much.

This morning I went to bed after a long shift at work. The day before I slept maybe two hours. I was depressed when I closed my eyes. My knee was painfully swollen . . . again. The rain was beating against the window. It was just another day to exsist.

So, why is it such a great day? Because, I spent the day fishing with Daddy.

I dreamed.

There were no visions concerning how he passed. No nightmares. No helplessness. I actually dreamed.

The lake was non-descript. It was a not Kenneth Chapman's farm pond, McFadden's canal, the Beedeville ponds, or Lake Hogue. It was not a summary of past outings. It was just daddy and me catching blue gill . . . and it was perfect.

All the memories I have of daddy are priceless to me. I don't need to make things up to feel good about our relationship. Yet, this dream will always hold a special place for me. I felt alive again today.

Last month I brought daddy's pickup truck home after mom gave the truck to me. I think I am going to hang a bobber off daddy's rearview mirror today to remind me we can go fishing anytime we wish.

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