Dado is gone
I got the message yesterday afternoon. A hello, and then the simple "Dado died." Who was this man? He was more than O.D. Loggins. He was and is my Grandfather.
I have so many memories of him now. Perhaps, someone's death is the key that opens the door to room that contains the vaults of forgotten memories. They flow together like a river fedby several different sources. They are all blurred together.
As I drove back to there home I saw the places of were we used to go--the old church, the fishing hole, and their old house.
I was unable to speak or see him during his last days with us. He even didn't get the birthday card that I waited too late to send.
I love, loved, and will love him.
I found this picture while looking through the safety deposit box for Life Insurance policies. It was in a plastic box full of important papers. Here a snapshot of a warm day at my great grandmother's house. The old green swing that no longer exists. The porch has been painted, the trees in the back are much larger now. Sadly in a the next year or two this house will fall to the progress of a new highway project.
But for now, I sit on the porch with my grandfather. He is singing "Doe, doe, doe see doe, doe, doe, see doe." All is ok. There is a future ahead for both of us. There is life for both of us. So now we hope. And as long as there is this blog, we will remain suspended in the realm of the electronic now.