My Daddy passed away when I was just a young girl. I, barely a couple months past 14. He, only 44. I was Daddy's little girl... He and I would go for long walks which is when my absolute love for the natural world was nurtured. He would point all sorts of things out to me as we walked through the woods and I just absorbed it.
He was a carpenter by trade and to this day the scent of freshly cut wood curls my toes!!! I wasn't old enough to learn his trade, but I sure watched... fascinated with his skill. My mother claims that my obsession with power tools and talent is genetic. *smiles* Daddy would have loved my workshop... he never got to experience the thrill of many corded tools let alone cordless. All his work was done by hand.
And what amazing hands they were.... skilled, strong, rough as all get out... but gentle and loving. Sometimes I can still feel his hand on the side of my face, calming my fears.
Some of my most prominent memories involving my Daddy are of him with my mom at the kitchen sink after dinner. She would be washing the dishes or cleaning up the meal and he would just spin her around and hold her... hug her and kiss her. The love between them was undeniable.
They were high school sweethearts... each others first love... for Daddy, Mom was his only love. He would have done anything for her...
When they first started dating... the first real gift he ever gave to my mom was a small wooden heart that he made for her. On the back it simply has a safety pin sunk and secured so that it can be worn. And wear it she did... often. Admire it, I did... always.
To me it was more than just a wooden heart. It represented a true, unconditional love... the kind I would dream about and pretend to have when I was a little girl and my mom would let me play in her wedding dress.... the kind I would see as he held her close and kissed her in front of the sink.... the kind I am still hoping to experience...
On my 30th birthday my mother gave me the wooden heart pin. It is the one item, that should my house be on fire, I would stop long enough to get and take with me. Every Valentine's Day I get it out and wear it... and sometimes... I'll wear it just to be hopeful.
There is still a little girl inside me that thinks someday I'll find the wooden heart that I've been searching for... and when I do, he'll craft a heart pin, meant just for me, for my very own.... and love me unconditionally.
4 comments:
you are blessed to have such wonderful and warm memories of your father and of the love he and your mother shared. truly. and to have such a sweet artifact representing so much of what you hold dear is a precious thing. thank you so much for sharing it with us.
why do i now have visions of you crafting apple wood hearts for your family members now ? ;)
I must admit, the idea crossed my mind as I wrote!!! Thanks Lime.
i think it's so great that people have that relationship with their fathers. i did not. not with either one of my parents...quite the opposite honestly. you are blessed with your memories.
KK... we packed a lot into the short years we had together... Maybe he knew somehow that the few memories I would retain would have to last me a life time... and teach me what it is that I'm to be looking for in my own life...
I'm sorry you don't have those memories of the past.... but I am sure you are making loving memories for your children's futures... and they will be wonderful.
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