Past comfort…

Present pancakes – perfect peace.

Whoosh ~ the present moment was gone. Oddly I was back many years ago remembering days at my parents' house.

I'm the oldest of siblings still at home – and the only one allowed to stay up late enough to watch Dad prepare for his graveyard shift at his full-time job; which (barely) afforded him to continue his calling – full-time pastor of a small church.

After working his eight hour job; he'd catch a short nap, then spend the mornings with my younger siblings. I was at school by then, but it was fine – as I looked forward to evenings with Dad.

I'd sit near the sink and watch him shave; talk about my day while he applied a dab o' Brylcreem to his carefully positioned "comb-over do", and listen attentively to his fatherly wisdom while he completed his final act of grooming - splashing the Old Spice aftershave onto his freshly shaven face – yikes. {My legs get goose-bumps at the very thought of such an act.}

I twirled at those special moments – spending one-on-one time with Daddy. In those precious moments I was not just "number 4-of-7" I was his one and only Baby Girl (don't tell my sisters). It was as if all other six siblings were distant memories.

Dad's words have always been my comfort, whether spoken or written ~ his cards are meticulously chosen and always signed with personal thoughts. In his words - his voice - I find peace and security; feel assured of life and hope; and know the strength and wisdom he represents.

~

Remembering even farther back… when we lived overseas,Daddy would tuck me in last at bedtime (well, I was number 4-of-4 then and THE Baby Girl). After reading (sometimes instead of) the books he would tell stories – describing his day in the form of a story book (seems we were sans Dr. Seuss over there). Gradually he would switch gears and the story became about how life compares to the life of Joseph or King David in the Old Testament or Nicodemus and how Saul became Paul in the New Testament. Sometimes it was whatever he had studied from the Bible for the next day's classes to teach at the West African Bible College.

~

What exactly created this emotional flashback anyway?

Hmmm.

Earlier tonight I was having a conversation with Dad. He was describing his day at the hospital. He told me in detail "all" that happened throughout the day: he took 2 walks with the nurse; visited with his older sister; Mom brought my niece - Baby Girl to visit and she wanted to take home the BIG bear my boys and I brought for Papa. Every visitor commented on Jeffrey's colorful drawing which Grandma taped to the front of the shelf.

Dad's story was building to its climax as he proudly exclaimed he had his first solids. =)

~

As he described his first meal selection for dinner, it all came rushing back...

Pancakes and scrambled eggs for dinner ~ Dad's favorite meal!

We often would have breakfast foods at dinnertime to celebrate Dad being with family for dinner before he had to leave for work at night – most of the time to give Mom a break, he would prepare that meal.

~

Funny, I never made a connection that breakfast at dinner time with Dad was such a comfort. So without the calories of comfort food – the thought of my Dad eating his favorite meal sans tube, false teeth and all, I am twirling like I did as a little girl.

Settling in for bed I remember the sweet, strong sound of Dad's voice telling his day-in-a-life story; my mind, heart, and body at rest for the night.

HonuGirl