Andy was just realizing that his Dad has only been gone about 8 months. It seemed so long ago, and so far away. The summer was reaching its zenith. The world looked vastly different. Strange, the way these things come back to us. It felt a little sadder hearing him talk about it, now that it was winter, now that there was no pool or sun or lawn to distract. All I could do was put a bouquet of stock on the counter in the hopes of cheering him a bit.
Winter is tricky that way. When the fall of snow levels everything, and the vista goes blank, there is nothing to do but face your own thoughts and memories. Andy seems to be doing all right, but I know he misses his father. It comes in waves, like bands of snow in the winter. Sometimes it’s thick and heavy, sometimes slight but sharp. Always, a chill and a pang of heartache.
The happy part, though, is that we still recall the little things he did to make us laugh. In that way, he’s still around. In spring or summer, we’ll take a trip to the Saratoga Auto Museum and make a little homage to the place where he and Andy always had some father and son time. The trees will have leafed out by then, and the flowers will be in bloom. Until then, these stock blooms will have to keep the cheer.
