The heart remembers

The heart remembers what the mind forgets.
Your voice, your love, your advice, your help, your hard work,
providing for all of us, the best you could,
your swearing (where do you think I learned),
your tickling,, your humour (all of my friends remember you being fun).
Driving so fast we took the corner on two wheels,
stopping behind a car at the lights, getting as close to it as possible,
bumping into it and sitting there looking angelic, both hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead,
....me in the passenger seat, delighted and embarrased.
The image of you running down the stairs, rounding the corner into the kitchen,
forgetting the child gate was in the doorway, you hanging in a V shape on the childs gate, naked.
Laughing about it for years to come.
You, getting the child's head out from being stuck in the stair spokes, some too young to remember, only aware
because of family stories and history.
You and me, long drives, low on conversation but aware of the love shared.
You, angry, hot-headed, pulling out the belt, apologizing after.
You, in the garage, working, grandaughter in tow, learning.
You, sharing oversized cookies for your birthday, kisses and hugs.
You, helping where ever you could, rescuing us often.
You and me, sharing a scotch at the neighbourhood bar.
You and me, drag racing down 16th Avenue at Christmas time.
You, struggling to do your best with what you had and what you had been dealt in your own life.
You, in your hospital bed saying no one gets out of here alive, you with your head on Mom's shoulder,
taking your last breath.
Leaving me filled with pain, confusion, emptiness, and a broken heart.
Thank you for loving us and for being who you were.
My heart remembers.
I love you, Dad.
Happy Father's Day.
2014

C