Today I was reading Facebook and came across a post by Linda, my dad's youngest sister. She posted a picture of her spider plant and how it is over twenty years old. Immediately, tears pricked my eyes and I felt a twist in my belly as I remembered the plants my dad had.
And, how odd it is that I miss his plants.
As time goes by, a feel less and less connected to him and more desperate for the things he may have touched. His books (Karen gave those away), his clothes (donated), his stuff. His lifetime of stuff that I most likely will never see again.
I don't know what is more cruel--his quick death or the complete abandonment of his wife who promised him that our family would always be her family. My kids lost their grandfather but I lost my dad and the promise of seeing and touching his life, if only with him gone.
I could have at least pretended that he was still with me.
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