I spent a good part of this day mulching the leaves at Mom's. Each year (if it wasn't too cold), Dad would sit outside in a chair and watch me do this. Every once in a while he would get up and go rake a few leaves from a fence line or from under a tree so I could run over them with the mower. Today his chair was there, but he wasn't. I guess some day I will stop blogging about this, but right now I just can't.
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It wasn't until after my Dad died that I noticed a truck that would drive by where I work, almost daily, that sounded just like the one my Dad drove. I can't tell you how many times I have gotten up, looked out the window, praying it my him.
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