Gratitude. Day, who knows what day I am on, doesn't matter, just still plugging along. My dad....

My dad.A lost little boy, who found his way, all by himself, quite literally, and did it beautifully. A man who lived in an era where a hand shake was all that was needed. It represented all that was necessary, a mans word. A man who embodies those qualities we wish all of our children to possess: Honesty. Integrity. Loyalty. Steadfast love and commitment to what is right and good. Who's main wish was to find a girl who would steal his heart, and they could build a life and a family along the way. And he found her. Or rather, they found each other.

Their marriage was one not seen often. Truly each others best friend for 54 years. And the day he stood bravely and unwavering in voice and body, and gave the eulogy for his soul mate, many walked away from that service, including myself, and questioned the way we were living and loving, our very own spouse. They did it right, my mom and dad. And today I see it has come rather full circle. He is much like that lost boy once again. Broken. Mostly his heart. Missing that love of his life.

But somehow, someway, he once again is finding his way. I think beautifully. He may tell you otherwise. I stand in awe. Proud to call him my father. Blessed to have these days with him. Even if it is watching him go about his days, fragile in spirit. But he goes. And we follow. Just as we did as small children. The roles have been reversed in many ways. But that is okay. I am honored to give back. As I remarked to one of my daughters recently, these days are gifts. We would change it all, in a heartbeat, to have her back. Yes for us. But mainly, mainly for him. For now, as difficult it is to watch him grieve and to know that my grief is only a fraction of his and knowing full well, there is little I can do for him, I will continue to look at these days as truly the gifts that they are. And I will continue to be grateful for them. Grateful for him.