I took a walk through the thick southern heat down to the Mount Holly Cemetery today to crack a new book. I enjoyed the shade of the magnolia next to a Victorian fountain. I gathered loose bits along the paths and made a heart as a tribute to my dad. It’s my first Father’s Day without him. I was born in Fort Worth, TX and lived there until I was six years old. My parents had a ranch house and behind the patio was a mimosa tree full of wavy pink blossoms. My dad put in a sandbox around its base, and I spent many hours there making imaginary cities and hunting ant lions. You might see a few mimosas up north, but they are abundant down here in Arkansas. I didn’t realize how long their bloom time is. Every time I see one, I imagine it as a hug from my dad to me across the divide. Happy Father’s Day Daddy. I miss you.
Ally
How beautiful of having a family foundation. As life was so precious when we were younger.
Lovely tribute to your father.
I miss and love my Dad too (he passed away in 1994 at 68 of cancer).
Hard day. Glad he is with you in Spirit.