It is a lucky day. Found three pennies in the parking lot leaving the YMCA this morning. Always makes me think of my Dad. He loved it when I found any money on the ground. A penny saved is a penny earned. Even one found is good. He and Mom lived with us after the big storm that blew their house down. (Well, almost down.) So every time I find a penny, whether on heads or tails, I pick it up, say thank you Dad, and put it in my poor box when I get home.
This afternoon I was putting dishes away from the washer. When I opened the cabinet I caught a slight glimpse of a plate I had painted for Mom for Christmas years and years ago. She displayed it on top of her china cabinet in her dining room. As I glimpsed the plate I was momentarily transported there, to her dining room. I had a strong urge to call her and talk to her. Then I thought of finding the pennies this morning and I just welled up.
Dad's birthday is Saturday, May 15 . 101 years ago he was born. He died the first day of 2013. Mom died on the very day she was 98 and a half, March 15, 2019.
Most days I can think of them, no problem. But today. Couldn't find any of my peeps that were available to talk. And so I write. And weep just a little. And thank God for such great parents.
Happy birthday Dad. Love never dies.
Shalom.
