Walking in the past, join me if you'd like...

We gathered in Indianapolis this weekend to be together. To laugh, to love, to remember. Saturday was my birthday but Sunday was the anniversary. Last year at this time I blogged such sweet blessings. Knowing that my Dad is part of us, every day is a blessing. When we are together there is no uncomfortable silence about him or unfounded reverence, or sadness when his name is mentioned. He is. He is with us. He is part of us. It is so strong that we still hear his laughter, or his frustration. We knew he would not have made it through the Children's Museum trip! He would have loved dinner at Weber's. He seemed to put together the soundtrack at the restaurant. I guess he's still sending us "musical notes". Dan Page was one of a kind. One year, or many years later he'll still be here, in us, in the little grandson who climbs into Nana's bed with the remote his hand, looking remarkably like his grandfather. Yes, that dad of mine, he left a mark. Most of the time it makes me laugh, even when I feel like crying.