The Acorn

The past two months have been a strange roller coaster of emotions.  The emotions you never think about until you lose someone close to you.  One moment you’re fine, thinking of all the memories & good times.  The next moment, you feel defeated & you just can’t understand why certain things happen.  And before you know it, you’re back up, feeling better.
I find myself often dreaming about my dad.  Of course it’s not the same as being with him in person, but somehow it’s nice to be able to talk to him, see his face, even if it is just a dream.   In my dreams, I always realize that he’s not supposed to be with us, so I better enjoy this time with him.

A few months before this past Father’s Day, before my dad was sent to Hospice, I reminded him about a story that I think about often.  It’s a story that sums up the kind of dad that he was to my sisters and I.  I was young.. maybe 5 or 6.  We were living in Lake Jackson, TX.. Close to NASA in Houston.  There was some kind of festival that was going on, and my dad took my sisters and I, except we weren’t allowed in.  I THINK I remember that it was a festival for the families that work at NASA.  Not wanting to disappoint his little girls, my dad took us to a nearby park, where we found acorns.  He very carefully showed us how to make whistles out of them!  Something so small made such a huge impression on lil’ me.  And as I thought about my life growing up, that’s what my dad did.  He did everything not to disappoint his girls.   He worked so hard, loved so much.  He made sure we were so happy.

Every Father’s Day/birthday/Christmas, I always got him a mixture of the same things.  Something to do with Corvettes, Harley Davidson, Saints or LSU.  This past Father’s Day I wanted to do something a little different.. Something a little more meaningful.  I searched high and low for something to do with an acorn that he can use, or something that he can look at and be reminded of how grateful I am for him as my dad.  I found this adorable, small, vintage acorn jar on Etsy.  It was cute, but not girly.. Or at least I don’t think so.  Apparently I pick out things in our house that I think aren’t girly, but Bryan begs to differ.  I knew it would be arriving late, so I didn’t bother to ask my dad if he received it when I talked to him on Father’s Day.  We talked about my business, his health, Bryan’s health, my grandparent’s health… Basically our normal routine conversation.  I wish I could go back, go deeper with him.  Tell him how much I love him.

Two weeks later is when I got the phone call he was being sent to Hospice.  There was nothing more the doctors could do for him.  When I was there & got to spend time with him, he was awake & alert, so I asked if he ever got the acorn jar.  He thought about it and said “no.”  I was hoping he was just loopy from the drugs he was on.  Later I asked my step mom, and she didn’t know anything about an acorn jar.  I was crushed.  It may sound little to you, but being in this situation where my dad was on his deathbed, and I just found out that he never got his Father’s Day present..  The one that meant so much from me.  It could have been all the other dumb presents, but he didn’t get this one.

After Bryan and I came home from his funeral, I wrote the company that I bought the jar from.  She said she shipped it & the was the last she heard about it.
I went back to Louisiana, a month after he passed, to celebrate his 51st birthday.  After we visited his grave site, and went to his favorite restaurant (Cracker Barrel), we visited my step mom at the house she shared with my dad.  She set aside a bunch of things that she thought we’d like.  Rings, car models he put together, sweaters, etc.  I looked up & I saw it.  The acorn jar.  I didn’t know what this meant.  Did my dad have this before he went to the hospital?  Surely, it couldn’t have JUST arrived!  It’s been 2 months since I ordered it!  I asked my step mom, and she said, “OOH, that’s from you!  I just got this in the mail with some random car part that your dad must have ordered!”  Apparently, these boxes must have been lost in the warehouse or something.   So, with her approval, I took the jar, along with several other things that belonged to my dad.  I know he didn’t get to see it when he was alive.  But I like to believe he sees it now, and he knows how much I love him.  Now I have the jar & every time I see it, I think of him.  And I remember when he took us to the park near the NASA festival, and the simple gesture of teaching his daughters to make whistles.  For me, the acorn is a symbol of my dad and the love he had for us.. Has for us.

I love you, dad.