On The Road Again


We stood on red brick pavers in the driveway of my home.  Me and my father.  His big cream-colored four-door was packed to the gills.  The early sun of morning shined, warming us ever so slightly from the east.  A cool breeze whispered, “It’s time to go,” out of the north.  Golden rays of light picked up sparkles of grey in his hair.  We took turns hugging for all the neighbors to see.  I was first to plant a wet kiss on the pink of his waiting cheek.  One on each of them before swooping in a second time to breathe the spice of him in again.

“I love you, Baby.”  That’s what my father said to me.  His voice crackled deep in the back of his throat, as if he might choke.  Climbing in the car, he shut the door with one hand, reaching back to buckle the belt of his seat.  “Click.”  Somehow the loudness of the steel sounded harsh in the stillness of God’s peaceful morning.   My father rolled down his tinted window, wanting to hold on.  One last wave between us.  Aging fingers with thickening knuckles moved slightly back and forth, trying to stretch the briefest of moments.  Plops of damp drops fell below shades of gray protecting crystal pool ponds of blue behind.  His, ‘Big Moon’ face smiled at me.  Our last seconds quickly ticking by….running out.  Nervously, he smacked shivering, quivering lips, slightly.  No one noticed….except me.

Then, off he drove endlessly into baby blue skies that floated fluffy with cirrus clouds like cotton white.  I noted suitcases, boxes of ‘treasures’ and hangers of clothes swaying in the back of a wide rear window.   My brother sat in the back seat.  A special lady sat next to my father.  I liked her…like her.  She is a blessing in my father’s life.  My mother in heaven would approve.  No man should be alone.  Life is short.

Three weeks of ‘travel’ chugged up….up…up…the chipped, paved street.  My eyes followed the rear of cream.  Shiny silver and a flash of black rubber together with clear lights not needed during the bright of day.  I viewed the car climbing a slight hill v.e.r.y.  slowly before rounding the bend…. until ‘tiny heads’ were no longer seen.

Turning around to enter my house, I knew I wouldn’t see my father again until… who knows?  Folding my hands in silent prayer, I thanked God for the special time I had with him.  Moments and hours my family was able to share with him, together.  He is in the midst of a three-week ‘road trip’ to see other loved ones.  My two sisters, his own baby sister, nieces, nephews, cousins, and dear friends.  It is bittersweet, and yet my father is truly blessed with good health oh-so-much-happiness.

Yes, my father is on the road again…………

48 thoughts on “On The Road Again

  1. That was very sweet Kim. It’s always hard to say goodbye. I always like to say “bye for now” to the ones I love and probably won’t see for quite awhile if The Lord is willing. Have a nice long weekend and rest up after company. Lol

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  2. You’re right to cherish the moments! You know it’s a blessing that he can still make the rounds to see his children and grandchildren, and was that a great-grandchild I saw in those pics? Is he on the ‘Baseball and Babies Tour’?
    Have a great weekend.

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    • Yes, I now have two grandchildren. The last to be born was the little baby, a boy on April 27th. Amazing that my father at 81 is so spry! And, the baseball game..how fun..ny! He lives in Arizona. Our ‘Cardinals’ swept’ the Diamondbacks while he was here! 🙂

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  3. What a beautiful tribute to time well spent! I love your writing…you make me feel as though I can see the whole event with my own eyes…and feel it with my own heart!! Blessitude

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    • Oh, Lorrie, your comments (compliments) put such a big smile on my face and fill my heart with warmth. Thank you so very much. Safe and blessed weekend to you.

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  4. Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
    Kim is a wonderful writer and she manages to convey the emotions we all feel but find difficult to express at times. For those of us in our 50’s and 60’s it is a time to recognise that if we do have parents still with us that time is precious. I lost my father when he was 80 – 18 years ago and I know that there are conversations that I did not have with him. He was a Navy man and to be honest when he said jump you asked how high! However, he was a kind man with a terrific if a little dated sense of humour. I wish the older me, could sit down with him now. My mother died at 95, two years ago and we spent much of the last six years of her life together. She was nearly part of the Victorian era and had very strict rules and standards – it was only in the last six weeks when she became the giggly young girl again that I saw a side I never knew existed. I hope that this wonderful post by Kim celebrating a visit from her father but with one eye on the clock, will inspire those of you who still have your parents in your life to make sure that you discover all the history, personal stories, moments of laughter you can.

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  5. This was a great post specially since I just read the post about you being in your mother´s house and your father leaving the cabinet pieces or furniture´s there for you to keep, instead of selling them after she passed away. (How do you do it to close the comment´s by the way?) So this was an uplifting post of a man that although I´m sure he suffered greatly the lose of his wife, your mother, and you too as her daughter, it was nice reading this seeing how he is capable of moving on, never forgetting her, but moving and a happy man now. Plus it sends a message to elderly people that life is not over that you can still be active and take that trip metaphorically and physically.

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    • Thanks, Charlie, for your insightful and kind comments. Yes, my parents loved each other greatly through their bond of a 56 year marriage. My father misses her so, but at the age of 81, is blessed with a zest for life again. Such a relief to see a ‘smile’ cross his face when he glances at my mother’s picture in my home…no more tears. Happy memories!

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