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December 22, 2004

It's a Shed, for Crying Out Loud

The shed attached to our garage is about 8' x 8' with rain stained walls, and a wood floor littered with 2002 vintage grass seed. The walls are lined with five shovels, not counting the two snow shovels, three rakes, two brooms, a hoe, a pitchfork, my favorite de-thatching rake, and my dog, Haley's, badly stained pooper-scooper. It is here I do my most thinking about my dad, now dead three years.

It is here I discuss, out loud, the business of the day. When I get an order from a former customer of my dad's, I thank him, out loud. When I get business from the catalogue, which my dad thought we should publish ten years ago, I ask him: "what do you think of that?" And sometimes, I just talk to him, not about business, but about how I miss him, how I think he is the best person I've ever known, how I miss his smile, his humor, his laugh (with his hands shoved in both pockets, stomping the ground in front of him with one foot, bending over with the laughter).

I also think about his brother, my Uncle Bill. How these two "boys from Hudson" two of the "last Catholics in America," made it through life? And, how I long for those days they had. I don't need to list the reasons why.

A few weeks ago, it occurred to me that my home doesn't seem to be my home for the reason that my dad hasn't been here. Of course, my home is my home, but I long for my dad having seen it, as he did my old home. He loved it, thought it beautiful.

I had a dream last week about my dad. He was walking my "little brother," Mike. Mike was about one or two years old, and they were walking hand-in-hand. I was crying in my dream, and my mom asked me why … I told her, "because dad won't live to see Mike grow up." Well, he did. But he didn't know Mike got married, and that Mike told my mom this summer that while he was gone on vacation, he "would have the girls (my sister and me) come visit their mother." It was something my dad would have said, and my sister and I did go.

My shed for crying out loud.

Posted by Gadflygirl at December 22, 2004 08:02 PM

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