As I flipped through my Bible this morning, I found my copy of the passage I read at my dad's funeral (from Meditation 17 by John Donne) and noticed my bookmark still tucked into the scripture I had chosen for that day, John 1:12.
I think about my dad every day - and sometimes wonder if (and hope that) I thought about him that often before he was gone.
The days are creeping by, and I'm also inching closer to a trip that will give me the opportunity to stop by his grave. I broached the subject with the kids last night, and my girl definitely wants to go and to leave flowers. It'll be a tough visit - the first time back, and also near his birthday - but I think it will be good to do it together.
