Timeless Love

So, yesterday I was digging through my purse and came across my dad's old watch face. It's one of those digital ones. I had been throwing it in my purse whenever I switched purses, just to have it in there, because it would beep every now and then and fondly remind me of my dad.  It didn't have the right time and I didn't know how to change it, but that was okay. I pulled it out because I noticed there weren't any numbers on it.  The watch had finally died.  I'm not sure when exactly, but it had, and sometime this year for sure. Mind you that my dad passed away 9 years ago on December 22nd.


I wasn't very sad when I realized the watch had stopped. I just kind of had the feeling of "aw, that's too bad."  Because I guess I realized at that moment that the watch wasn't going to keep me close to my dad.  It's just a watch. And now a dead one at that.


I have been thinking about dad a lot lately, as I always do when the holidays come around. Yet, he's been on my mind even more since I've been pregnant.  I'm reminded that he won't be here to see and spoil his first grandchild, and he won't be here to be that cool, goofy grandpa that I know he would've been to Brianna.  She won't know him, except what I tell her, which will be plenty. :)


Not to get all mushy on you, but these facts made me really sad, especially as an emotionally unstable pregnant woman.  Except, the watch somehow made me think about it in a different way and something clicked...


Brianna is going to be keeping my dad alive just by being born. She'll be carrying some of his DNA and she'll be carrying his name with her as well (Brian). And now, I think I can finally say that I have a peace about him not being here for her birth. For he's probably always been here, and in a way I'm sure he will be there.  Every now and then something happens that makes me wonder if he had a part in it. :)


I will forever miss him. But I will keep him alive through my memories and remembering the little things about him like:  his laugh, his love of dogs, how he'd walk around the house farting with each step and act like he's stepping on something, singing in the car "Benie in a Gottle" instead of "Genie in a Bottle," tickling my brother and I, tapping his hands on the dashboard in the car as if he were playing the drums to the music, head banging to "Bohemian Rhapsody," those neon workout shorts, his low singing voice, his love of sweets, how he'd try to tickle my stomach every time Paul Simon sang "a little soft in the middle now" in "Call me Al," his seemingly wordy lectures, and the precious letters he would write me when he couldn't find the words to say.


So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am so thankful for the 18 years I had with my dad and all the little things that made him who he was.

I love you dad, and always will.