One Year................

One Year Today.

I wanted to post today in honor of my Poppy. He passed away one year ago today. June 17th. A friend in France http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek Corey Amaro so perfectly wrote on the first anniversary of her Dad's passing this poem which could not better express my heart, so I wont try but she graciously allowed me to post it here today......... The last line of the poem is where I saw my dad last week. Corey saw her Dad in a painting in Paris wearing a red helmet. I couldn't get over how much it looked like her Dad.

One Year
One year, the first year, a day by day year. A year of firsts. A year of guarding memories. A year that is still hard to believe. One year, a hundred years, ten seconds...it feels a bit of that all at once.
A year of hide and seek. When I least expect it you appear... in a song, in a feeling, in a dream, in a memory, or.....

in a photo of the cowboy boots I pulled off your feet after work when I was a child.

I miss you so much.

My dad fancied himself a cowboy and he took us to practically every rodeo in our province. He bought us the best seats money could buy and what an event. Bucking broncs and bulls and dust. He loved the idea of open country and animals and laughed when I would sing to him, "Don't Fence Me In" or "Back In The Saddle". I thought it was magic to sit above the bull riders shoots and watch them come out, bulls snorting and some crazy cowboy hanging on for dear life. The song "Rodeo" by Garth Brooks pretty well describes this way of life.

Around my sixth birthday, after dreaming, eating, sleeping and breathing the desire of my heart, he woke me up very late one night,(it was probably around 9 pm ha ha) with a pair of beautiful black cowboy boots. My mom didn't think cowboy boots would go with my frilly dresses, but Dad did. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I slept with that box under my pillow till the box fell apart. He lives in my heart in these memories.

Corey Amaro also mentioned that around that one year mark she was sure she could talk about her dad without crying, even said so and then immediately after speaking those words..... cried.

I love to remember that he never broke a promise ever. His word was what it was. I felt treasured and safe all my childhood years. He loved to sing me silly songs right up almost until he passed. He made everything fun when I was a kid. His and my favorite song was Somewhere Over The Rainbow and we sang it all the time. I always knew that song was about heaven. I sang it at his memorial service for him.

I let myself cry sometimes...... I know he is in heaven , but missing him for coffee, for laughing, for crying with, for silence with, for cream puffs with, for going to to Whiterock with....... just being Dad.

This is "The Pier" in White Rock dad walked to the end and back on his hands for a bet.

My favorite memory of us was also at about age six, our

family in the car driving over the Burrard St bridge and I will never know why cliff jumping suddenly became the ultimate, end all, measure of love , but I tapped him on the

shoulder and said "How much do you love me Daddy?" He answered, " I love you more than you will ever know darlin" I then asked, " Would you jump off a cliff for me?"..... there was silence for a few seconds and then he said, " yes darlin I would jump off a cliff for you." After that day I knew everything was going to be just fine. All life and love hung in the balance there for about 30 seconds. haha I laugh myself silly over the look on his face when I asked him that.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

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