My brain...

and my heart are very busy right now. They seem to not be working in tandem. I'm mostly all heart right now. I have to force my brain to engage for adulting. But oh my heart, she's so full she's taken over.

That's not a bad thing. I cry a lot. Happy tears mostly. When Dee picked out her prom dress for her senior year, I cried. The sunrise over the ocean made me cry. My sister's wedding gift... cried. My heart, she's so full she's apparently running down my face.

This next sentence is a hard one. My dad will not be at my wedding. He really won't walk me down the aisle. He won't kiss my hand as he hands me off. He won't tell me "I told you so" because he really did tell me a week before he died that "he" was out there and I'd eventually find him and that "he" would be the "best one". My dad really won't be at my wedding.

I wrote this to some of my friends a couple of weeks ago. Three of whom have lost their fathers. The rest of whom can imagine what it would be like. Saying it helped. I need to put it out there and face it before the day, because it's real and it's hell.

I want him to come back for just that day. He can walk me down the aisle and kiss my hand and clap SB on the back as my dad puts my hand in his. My dad could say "she's all yours... take care of her" or "good luck with her". He could sit on the front pew with my stepfather (whom I'm grateful for) while my mom officiates mine and SB's marriage ceremony. Maybe he'd cry. Maybe he'd laugh at my "silly ass". Then he'd have some cake and hug his grandkids and kiss my cheek and say "I love you babe." and then he could just go back to where he is now.

Just one day. Really in the picture of eternity, that isn't long.

Last night SB and I took a ride in his pickup. AFTER we voted, of course. We drove by the place where he put the blankets on the dock so we could watch the meteor shower. We drove around places we've driven since we've been together. We do this, this ride thing. It's easy to talk in the truck with "our" playlist and the weather feeling all warm and optimistic. My parents used to go for rides in the car. I remember watching my dad put his arm across the back of the seat resting his hand on my mom's shoulder. I remember my mom rubbing the back of his neck. I remember thinking I was going to do that when I got married. And now I do.

So on this ride we ended up driving past the last home in which I lived with my parents. It's falling down now. It was an old farm house and no one has lived in it for years. It's been more than 20 since I've lived there. It was the place my dad lived when he found out he was sick, before he moved to his old home place to die. It's the place that makes me homesick. Where I feel him most. Where I can picture my teenaged self most.

This time my fiancé pulled into the drive and we proceeded to trespass on private property. We saw the iris starting to peep up from where my mom and dad planted them. We could see through the falling down back porch to the kitchen where my dad drank coffee and we had dinner. I could see the memories.

SB wandered off a bit and I was standing in front of the garage. I put my hand on the door handle. I put my hand there because I knew my dad's hand had been there many times. I wanted to touch a place he touched. And oh I felt him. He wrapped himself around me. He held me like I was a child. I felt him right there. As SB seems to always always do, he was next to me at the exact right moment. And he wrapped himself around me and held me like I was almost his wife and I felt him right there.

My dad will be there April 16 at 2:30. He'll be there as I take my brother's arm and look at his hands which look just like my dad's. He'll be standing to the side and loving me. My dad is here with me now. I feel him. I feel him running down my face with my heart.