Mondays are hard....

Almost every Monday for the past 2 1/2 years or so until April, I called my dad during my lunch hour. I'd try to take a walk while I talked to him...sometimes I'd just sit in my car.

We'd catch up with events over the past week. He asked how Rod, Scott, Thomas, and Emerson were. We talked about how OU or the Dallas Cowboys had screwed up the past weekend. And we talked a lot about the TV we watched that week.

It was hardly ever ground breaking discussion....mostly small talk. But it was both of us taking time out of our days to let the other know we were thinking of them.

He almost always told me he was proud of me. I wasn't sure for what....I have a good job that I like a lot, but it's not like I've won the Nobel Prize or anything. I have a quiet little life...I go to church, I show up at work on time...I play with my baby, and with few exceptions that's pretty much it. Maybe pursuing my own idea of happiness is what he was proud of.

Since the beginning of April, I feel a bit hollow during lunch on Mondays. For the first few weeks, I was busy making phone calls related to his estate. But now there's not much else to do except move on. Last Monday, I went to get a $1.99 chicken fried steak meal at KFC because CFS was something he always liked. I'm probably rationalizing my food addiction but it helped me feel closer to him somehow.

I get sad when I think about all the stuff he's missing. Emerson's walking all around now....giving hugs and kisses and chasing dogs. Scott starred in a play 3 weeks ago and graduates this Friday. Thomas looks great after the surgery and is working hard on his recovery. Rod is down over 35 pounds since the start of the year.

All I can do is be proud of them on Dad's behalf.