Tribute to Dad

As I was painting away today, I got thinking about my dad. Guess that's not too out of place, seeing he and I have spent hours upon hours upon hours putting miles on paintbrushes. And I started really wishing he was here. Not because my painting would go that much faster (which it would--he's been painting more years than I've been alive!), but because I miss our fellowship. After painting with him for about 8 years, painting all by myself gets pretty lonesome. Oh, sometimes how I miss those long talks! Just he and I, with the birds singing in the background, pushing our paintbrushes loaded with white paint over white painted siding, using our rags to swipe away spider webs, and just talking. About everything. It was so easy to be best friends, to share all that was on my heart, to hear his loving guidance--even when I didn't necessarily want to hear what he had to say sometimes! The memories we made will always stay with me. Swaying up at the top of a ladder, the level of the eave on a full two-story house, when it felt like the sun was about ready to come down and join me and the paint dried faster than I could put it on, and listening to Rush Limbaugh on the radio. Or sitting on the bottom of two extension ladders roped together so he could reach the bell tower on a church--and on a windy day no less!! Learning how to run a caulking gun. Humming along in the little yellow Chevy Luv with the hot wind blowing through my hair, exhausted and glad to relax on the way home from work. Trying to wipe up a drip real quick so he wouldn't notice. Ahh. Thanks, Dad, for all you went through to help me feel needed and loved, and to give me all these happy memories. I miss you!