Warm fuzzies

Everyone I run into these days in is in the holiday spirit, and shock and surprise, so am I! There is something in the air that just seems to have people thinking about the importance of family and friends and not so much the pressure of gifts and stuff. I am certain the recession has people pinching pennies just as much as the next guy, and strangely, I think we finally have something for which we can thank Bush. The money crunch is making this a much more personal holiday season.

For those that don't know, I walked the stage this weekend claiming my empty diploma holder in a graduation ceremony enjoyed by close friends and family. The big to-do was followed by lunch at one of my favorite Memphis haunts. During the melee of pork and rib sauce, I took a mental picture that I hope I will remember far into the oldest days I live. Surrounded by loving well-wishers, I felt like I was in the midst of a family I am rarely thankful for having. We fight, we bicker, we forget, we blame, but we also laugh, joke, praise, and celebrate.

For several days I have been working on a project for my mother. She moved from my childhood home to the house once occupied by my late grandmother. Using my winter hiatus to clean out the attic of the older home seemed like a perfect opportunity to do something really helpful. During day three or four of the attic adventure, I found several boxes of pictures from upwards of 40 years ago.

I can't describe just how happy I have been to look through all these pictures that I never knew existed. There are so many pictures of my father and me that I can actually feel an empty place start to fill. One that is especially striking is of me and daddy in the backyard. I must have been 4 or so. He is laying on a sleeping bag, and I am putting sunblock on his back. It is just a picture of me with my hand on his back as he lays there with his eyes closed on a sunny day. I feel all warm and glowy when I look at it.

There is another picture of me and him when I was too little to have too many teeth. I am sitting on his lap while he shows me how to brush my teeth. I am looking directly into his face as he looks into mine. I feel like I am being hugged and held when I look at this one.

There are others that make me cry, and I am just as grateful for those as I am for the warmer ones. For the first time in a long time I am in touch with who I was and who I am. I can miss him and not be as sad as I once was. I don't know the words to describe how good it feels to know and now have proof that he was real and he loved me. My father loved me. He would still love me if he was here.