I Remember

I Remember

April 27… April 27… why does that date seem to ring a bell? Let me think, April 27. Humm, Oh-yeah I remember. That was the day when I saw for the first time the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. I remember it well. It was as though I was in a vacuum, or a cave and there was no one else there. All I could see was this girl, and she was perfect! And then I realized I was not alone, because I could here this most loud and obnoxious giggling. And then I looked around and realized it was I! But I couldn’t help it. And as far as I was concerned I had the right. Because she was mine! And I had me a little girl.

The little girl began to grow. But she trusted me completely. And at times it seemed she feared nothing. When she could just barely walk she used to jump off the top step of the house that we lived in without fear, knowing I would catch her. And I always did. {Although this did her mother’s health no good; sometimes she said, “If you don’t stop I will die of a heart attack”}.

Time went on. We lived near a park and in the winter her mother used to dress her in a “big” little pink snow suit, “she looked so cute” “and ornery” and so I would take her to the park, to go sled riding. I would take her and the sled a safe distance up the hill. And then I would walk down, so as to catch her when she came down. And then I would kneel down and say, “Come on”. And she would, but with out the sled! She would run as fast as she could down hill leaving the sled at the top and laughing so hard all the way. And then hitting me full force and so hard it knocked me backward on my back in the snow and we both laughed. “And I wouldn’t trade those days for anything”.

Time went on and things got tough. So I bought a truck to survive the hard times. And did pretty well. And so I began to take her with me in the truck. Soon I began to haul high dollar loads and so I began to take pictures of the loads “just in case”. When I would take the picture, I would put her on the load, and she thought I was taking pictures of her. And so she would pose. {And she once again looked so cute}

Time when on. She has always been my daring one. One day I took her to Six Flags of St. Louis. They had a new ride. A Roller coaster. It not only flipped upside down but also did a corkscrew flip. I thought it was pretty cool. She climbed out of the car, folded her arms and said, “Rip off.” I guess she wasn’t impressed.

But my most precious memories are of the times we spent at home, most often in the evening, listening to her voice as she recited whole chapters of scripture she had memorized. Or singing hymns. Or humming while she did dishes. Or singing out loud while she was cooking in the kitchen. In my head I can still hear her sometimes. And I used to love to look out the window and see her riding her horse.

But I think most of all I miss seeing her sitting in her chair at the dinner table, “her chair was write next to mine” and sometimes when I look up I still expect to see her.

I never knew how much I would miss her, and now all I can do is pray, every day for her and her new life. I know her life has always been in my most Sovereign Lord’s hands, but some how it’s harder now, because she is no longer a part of my daily life.

There are many, many more stories to tell. Too many to write and some too personal to write. But I wouldn’t trade any of them for the whole world. And I will take these memories to my grave with me.

I miss you sweet heart!

Love!,

Dad