We've been vegging out these past few weeks, trying to clean up after the Christmas mayhem and getting things back in order. After the holiday season, I especially like to clean things out and see about purging items that I just don't want to come back out, ever. For Christmas I received a very special gift from my mom...a picture of my father, a photocopy of his journal, and a few other copies of past ancestors. It was different not having him present during Christmas, but with this being the first of many, the simple photograph and journal was a great way to have him present during our Christmas morning.
After my dad's passing last year, my mom allowed us to take anything of his we'd like. And at first I couldn't think of anything I'd actually want. We had our memories and I had pictures of him that I'd taken myself growing up. But over the course of the following months I would come across items that had a story and thought would be wonderful to pass along to my children.
I found this Bible while going through a back room filled with books on history, war, and religion. All of dad's favorites. I found this one to be particularly interesting because it was given to him by my late grandmother and there was an old receipt still inside. It's dated 1957, for someones rent at $70. (Awesome, right?) And I'm not even sure of the name on the receipt, I'll have to ask my mother about that one.
Dad's photo sits out with our other family photos now, as well as his Bible which reminds me of how much I want the things in my home to reflect my life and what's important in my life. The book itself has seen better days, while it's pages are intact, the cover is worn and the binding has almost fallen to pieces; sometimes almost a direct reflection of how our lives are. I am not a perfect person and I certainly do not live in a perfect home. My children play and make messes, furniture is chipped, sometimes things break and we clean them up. I don't refrain from decorating or furnishing my home just because I'm afraid of something getting ruined. Life isn't about staying in one piece. My children have pieces of me and I share myself with others when I can. I think that by having pieces of my dad's life in my home makes me whole in some way. So while he isn't here physically, little reminders of his life help me to remember his life, his voice, the long life lectures at the breakfast table, and to share them with his posterity.