I found my Dad's high school notebook today. I forgot that I tucked it away behind my door with all my other bags of stuff. Today was the day that I decided to go through all that stuff to consolidate and organize. How nice it was for me to see my Dad's beautiful handwriting flowing across the pages of a marble notebook from the 1950's.
I see so much of Dad in me. Students and searchers. In his notebook, he wrote out favorite poems and sayings that touched him in some way. Seeing my father having a natural fondness for Keats, Milton, and Kipling made me feel an even stronger connection with him.
For the past 12 years since his death, I will sometimes find myself trying to relive a moment of Dad's embrace as I sit alone at home, in church, or in my van. Today, I felt his embrace fully and my heart feels more directed and complete, at least for now. Thanks Dad.