Two Very Old Memories

Watched a movie last night with a story line that involves a ten to eleven year old girl who's mother dies.

Sometimes screenwriters hit the mark and this movie was one of those times. For you who do not know me, my father was killed in a farming accident when I was ten years old.

At one point in the movie you could see pain revisiting the girl's face when she thought she was in jeopardy of losing another important adult relationship.

In another part, she wept when she realized she was starting to forget little things about her mother.

These scenes brought back two very real memories for me.

I remember desparately wanting everything to stay the same; no more loss, please. I also remember going down the list of things I remembered about my dad, making sure they stayed fresh. I knew the minute I let go - I might not be able to recall him.

I am thankful for the deep dreams I sometimes fall into where I walk out to the milk house and there he is. He looks up at me and acts like he has been there all along. Those dreams are precious to me.