After Dad died, I looked through his collection of old calendars and tried to peer into his mind through the notes and doodles he put on certain dates. On the anniversary of my Grandpa Johnson's death, Dad had a bare notation-- "Dad"-- with a simple crying face. It sunk deeply, in part because of Dad's complex relationship with his father, and also because he was reticent to express this sorrow in words.
Ever since, in my planners, I've followed suit.
Yesterday was the day we marked Dad's exit from earth, and today is Sunbeam's due date. Death, life, grief, joy-- we get pieces of it all here on earth, sometimes jumbled all together.
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I had a doctor's appointment today, ran (hobbled) errands for most of the day, and before I changed into scruffy work clothes to descend into the Basement of Horror and Doom, I asked Millie to take a few pictures of this baby still in belly, perhaps for the last time, on an auspicious day of rain and fog.
We love you, little Sunbeam, indeed.
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We love you, too, Dad, and miss you still.
Someday you'll meet this baby!
