My Parents

One year ago today, I was home with my family because my father was dying. I am planning a trip home in August to see my family. I have not seen them since Dad died last May. I am looking forward to seeing them, as I miss them all so much. Still, the thought that dominates my mind is that this will be the first time in my life that I go home to visit, and my father is not there. I will drive up the hill and around the bend and see his name listed on the Church sign: "Pastor Thomas H. Jorden." I will see his car sitting in the parking lot of his church. I will see the porch overhang that he fell and broke his wrist building. I will see the security cameras that he installed to deter the local youth from vandilizing my brother's car. I could even call and hear my father's voice on the answering machine. I will walk in and see little peices of him throughout his home. He will not be there though. I won't hear, "Hey Wunkus!" I won't smell him there. I still catch myself saying, "I'm going to visit my parents in August," at times. I'm going to see my parents...