i had a dream last night.  and i can't stop thinking about it.

the dream seemed to happen in scenes.  like a play.  it started out with mom and i in the house.  it was daylight out, and for some reason, we were able to see out to the shale pit hole.  dad was out hunting.  he stood up, and we saw him get shot.

the next scene showed him walking along the other side of the ditch.  we were still in the kitchen.  he lifted his gun and pointed over towards the ridge.  and for some reason i knew that he was confused.  mom and i looked at each other, and we went out the door.

the next scene showed him sitting in a straight backed chair in the kitchen, struggling to breathe.  i was trying so hard to call 911, and it just wasn't happening.  i couldn't get it accomplished.  my cell phone was dying.  the portable phone was dead.  then i was on the wall phone while i was taking his shirt off to try to find out where he got shot.  and i got a recording that said dial this number for that, and that number for this, and finally after 20 options, it said, and dial 0 for emergency assistance.  well, i accidentally dialed 9, knew as soon as i did and then hit 0.  and it put me thru to the station and nick answered.  i told him i'm trying to call 911 and i can't get it accomplished and since i have you on the phone, if you have a crew please come on back to get dad. and i heard sam saying in the background, just go.  and then mom wanted me to let a little girl look at the pictures on my phone and i couldn't take the time to give her the phone, and i could see and feel the sub q air coming around dad's right side and i couldn't find the bullet hole, and i tried my cell phone again, and i got the same recording and it was going through the options and i was getting frustrated.  and someone said there's lights coming, i see them in the play room.  but i knew it wasn't who i needed it to be.

and then the alarm clock went.

i talked to this guy today.  he was wearing o2, and he had that pale cancer look.  he's not been diagnosed with ca, but he's been short of breath.  when i asked if he gets more short of breath when he walks, he said he's not been doing anything except sitting in the house because he just can't do anything.  and maybe once the weather gets nicer he'll feel better.

that's exactly what dad said.  that he'd feel better once spring got here.  and that year, spring just wouldn't come.  it rained and was cold for so long.  spring just wouldn't come.  and the first nice week we had, was the week we buried dad.

i've often wondered if it was a cruel twist of fate, or it if was God saying, yes, you do feel better now.

i hope this guy today is ok.

stash

I went in to stash today.

I wasn't there, last year. I couldn't go. There was no reason to. My reason for purchasing coins is no more. And i figured that i wouldn't be visiting him anymore.

But about 2 weeks ago, i very easily made the decision that i would carry on Dad's tradition of giving coins for Christmas. I didn't think much of it at the time. It was an easy decision to make and seemed like a very good idea.

But actually going in to see stash was much harder than i thought it would be. See, for some reason, Dad and i would go on the same day. We'd compare notes and realize that we had JUST missed each other. Stash wouldn't tell the other that the first one was in, but more than once, one of us had just pulled out. Every year was the same.  We'd both visit stash on the same day.

I did not realize that was such a strong bond with my dad.

buck season

today was a good day. a therapeutic day.

last year first day of buck season was just wrong. because of a call off, i wasn't there for supper, even tho it was at the house instead of the cabin. supper at the cabin just seemed wrong for everyone. 2 years ago 1st day of buck season supper at the cabin was a very quiet affair. no one talked. i had looked around the room, and knew that this was the last 1st day buck season cabin supper we would ever have together. and there was this huge elephant in the room. huge. there were no hunting stories. there was only silence. and the next day was dad's appointment.

today, we went up to the cabin for the 1st day of buck season cabin supper. and we had a good time. looked at two very nice bucks. watched them skin the one. had supper. laughed. enjoyed each other's company. i looked up at the styrofoam cup that daddy had written his name on during his last hunting season. and i thought of him.

it's been a good day today.

father's day

we were at mart's shanty for the traditional father's day picnic today.

caleb and i were sitting across from mart and vera.  and caleb asked me, is that a grandpa?  he was looking at mart.  i didn't know what to tell him.  he remembers.  caleb remembers.  at three years of age, not even 2 yet when daddy died, caleb remembers.

and then i stopped at the grave on my way home.  and sat there for awhile.

meeting

we were up at the cabin again tonight.  and i was idly looking thru the calendar that was there.  it was a heavy duty calendar and each month was a moose picture.

may's picture was a bull moose touching noses with a half grown calf.
and i had this sudden picture of dad meeting his dad as he crossed the river.  dad was 23 when his dad died.  and i wondered what his meeting with his dad would have been like.  and how happy he must have been to finally be with his dad.

the 9th, again.

in that space between awake and asleep, when you think that you are awake but you suddenly realize that you were sleeping, i dreamt this morning.

it was a very short dream.
i was on the phone w dad and i told him i wanted to see him.
i even heard his voice.