A Morning Memory

Sometimes the smallest things can remind us of someone we love and lost.

Every morning, I take the littles to school.  For anyone who hasn’t dropped off a kid at elementary school lately, let me tell you, the efficiency would make Disney World proud. Ten cars at a time pull up to one of three drop-off points where you’re met by someone (usually a teacher, volunteer, or older kid) who opens your car door and helps the children out.  Then you drive away and the next ten cars pull up. It’s really great.

Well . . .

For the last week, since it’s been so cold (don’t all my northeastern and Canadian friends laugh, 40 is cold in Texas), we’ve been met by dads. Yep. Dads. Some wearing “great dad” t-shirts over their coats or sporting “great dad” buttons.  They are friendly and helpful, and I drive away with tears in my eyes every morning.  Heck, I’m crying now just writing this.

You see, this is something my dad would being-a-great-dad-1024have done – either for us kids or his grandkids.  He was a great dad, and he’s been gone a while and usually . . . well, we all get on with our lives.  But for some reason, this makes me think of him every single morning.  We miss you dad.

So, now that I’m all bleary-eyed, what brings back memories of someone you’ve lost?




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