I thought about my dad a lot today. His distinctive ALL-CAPS handwriting on boxes. "Dad" in glitter on an elementary craft stocking. Christmas decorations he and Mom selected. And all the great Christmases-lots of laughing, lots of love.
Another thing brought Dad to mind today. But first I will have to explain another inevitable of post-Christmas days, the rearrangement of a room. For whatever reason, Mr. W cannot go six months without rearranging a room. After Christmas it is the den and in June-ish it is our bedroom. I should have seen it coming. A couple of days ago we were in LP & Sunshine's room, discussing the chilliness and he began to discuss how we might better feng-shui the furniture to "keep the kids healthy." He was getting the fever then.
So today I could see the writing on the wall when he brought a "living-room" chair into the den to fill in the empty spot left by the Christmas tree. So after I made him promise that we wouldn't hear a word of complaint about any aches or pains and that all the Christmas boxes would be in the attic before the day was over, I consented.
One of the things that had to be done was to move the massive TV off my hope chest where it resided. Now, I am not bragging about the massive TV. It is as the old song goes, "deep and wide." It is one of the last of the models that they sold for less because they knew that flat-screens would be the only way to go the very next day. So we are the proud owners of a television that I am sure the entire family could fit into should there ever be a world-wide calamity. (I am not complaining...just stating a fact.)
Anyway, if I am around and a hope chest is uncovered, then I (like a pirate) must open it and peruse. There are all sorts of things in mine. Things from "yester-year," my children's stuff, a small box of Mr. W's, items of my grandmother's, etc. And there are letters and cards from my Dad. So I sat down and read through most of them. And I was very thankful for a daddy who was not shy about telling me he loved me or he was proud of me. I was thankful for a daddy who loved my husband so much. I am thankful for that and so much more. Daddys, write to your daughters. Tell them how you feel about who they are and what they have done for you. One day those letters will be tied up in satin ribbon and untied when she needs to remember.
So back to the day. Mr. W finished getting everything re-arranged and even covered up the paint splotches on the wall where we were "testing." DG has given it her stamp of approval and the Christmas boxes are back in the attic. All is good. Until June.