I saw my father...

Losing a wonderful dad is bittersweet.  You feel blessed he was in your life – but you miss him terribly when he is gone.

My Dad with his grandkids

My dad had a great sense of humor…a wonderful zest for life…he fixed my messes and taught me about character.  He lived until he was 88 years old – which gave me even more time to learn how terrific he was. 

John and I were walking past a field and a small Springer Spaniel popped out of the brush.  We heard a whistle and saw her bound over to an old man in the distance who was training her. 

As I looked, I realized I was getting a glimpse of my dad in heaven.  He loved his dogs…he loved to hunt with them.  Mary Clare, his last Springer, made him laugh every day. 

As we walked on, the Springer ran up to us a final time...I looked back and the old man waved at me. 

And there is the gift walking the Via Francigena has given me-- a wave from my father.  

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Mary Clare made my dad laugh every day...