My sister and I had the bright idea of taking one last stroll around the “big house.” A place that my father departed about six months prior, and didn’t look back. I can’t say the same for us. There was something drawing us back to the place that we considered a second home.
We knew there were some untouched treasures there, and I can speak for myself I didn’t want to let go. There are some days I still want to be able to turn the key of the family home, but hey, not now.
The time was winding down for me to return to Texas, so it was imperative that we secured everything in a storage space. My guy friends were in the basement disconnecting the washer & dryer and preparing to load everything on the U-haul until they heard two people SCREAM.
My sister and I were in the middle room in awe after finding our father’s military photo.
I can remember being a little girl and asking my granny who was the guy in the picture. She would say, “Your dad.” I didn’t believe her because I can only remember one time in my life that my dad didn’t have facial hair. There was no way you could convince me that this handsome, bare face person was my father.
It was him, indeed.
Even though the frame was damaged I was excited to know that this picture would be taking a road trip with me along with his flag, gun salute shells, his favorite snack, eyeglasses, and my favorite juice. I was prepared to take the long 20 hour trip from Benton Harbor, Michigan to Houston, Texas. I don’t think I would have been able to get through that trip without the items in the seat. It was one of the easiest road trips I’ve ever experienced. My angels had me covered. There is no feeling like finding something, and it continues to give you pure joy.