a sunday of memories and hope

It’s the afternoon of Father’s Day and I’m lounging on our patio which continues to be our primary living space when the weather co-operates and allows us to relax in comfort. I find myself listening to Dire Straits’ ‘Brothers in Arms‘ album and thinking of my father, now missing for the second of these days. I now know I’ll spend all the Father’s Days ahead celebrating his memory and all that he contributed to my life.

I awoke this morning from a blissfully solid night of sleep; the kind it takes a few minutes for your eyes to un-gum from. Bae prompted the fur kids to wish me a ‘Happy Father’s Day’, but that instruction went unheeded, and despite this I willingly allowed my arm to become pin cushion later in morning after Bae had prepared a wonderful French toast and mimosa breakfast that followed the coffee that finally got the rest of the gunk cleared from my eyes.

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