Mom & Dad on their wedding day, July 5,1941 Anne Mae EnWright Work & Lawrence Oakley Work Jr.
Happy Fathers Day to all you dads, you know who you are!
Well happy fathers day to you dad – seems like forever that I have seen you, touched you or smelled you. But, in reality you come alive to me several times everyday. Today is no exception. So hard to find that you have been gone 22 years, you would be 96 were you still here.
I can remember so clearly the day that you left. Checking on you early that morning, you were sleeping soundly and breathing peacefully. I went to make us a cup of coffee. In the midst of it brewing, while gazing out your kitchen window, I felt you pass bye.
I went back to your room, you had a far off stare, now sleeping peacefully but not breathing. I knowingly searched for an unfelt pulse, realizing that once again I would not find what I was looking for. I put my head on your chest and heard nothing but the solitary echo of my own heart. It was a loud and solitary beat. I savored the moment, once more finding myself somewhere I was not ready to be. I had a lot of growing up to in what felt like much too short a time.
I told mom you were gone, we cried together on your bed, tears falling on the bed covers, mixing with your smell. I called the funeral home and finished brewing coffee for one. I went outside for a walk pondering the change. Trying hard to put on clothing that felt too large a size for me.
I rounded a corner to witness your best friend and neighbor lowering his flag to half mast. My worry came down along with the flag. I walked back to your home my vision sharp through the blur of unending tears.
I have tried to fill your shoes even though your were an eleven and I a nine. As always, I found myself two bricks shy of a load. I know that I could never totally fill your shoes, but now mine fit me just fine.
PEACE ††† en theos ††† jlawrence