My memory loves you, it asks about you all the time

Sometimes our loved ones who have passed, show up in big ways to say “I’m still with you.”

My memories and life have just been flooded with my dad’s presence lately. I am so grateful for this spirit! He passed away when I was only 10. So I never got to know him as an adult. Through the lens of a little girl he was my daddy. And I’ll always love him that way. But lately I’ve been thinking of him as an adult. What kind of friend was he? What were his hopes and fears? What were his thoughts on life? And oddly enough…..these things are finding me.

A few months ago, I started having heart palpitations……(it’s all good and I am perfectly fine). I had to wear a heart monitor for a few weeks to discover the cause…..which is PAC (no big deal;). But during the waiting to figure it out phase, I kept thinking about my dad. He passed away of a heart attack. I thought about my husband, kids and family and leaving them behind. And I thought about his loss a lot from an adult perspective. From his shoes. And although it’s heartbreaking, I felt more connected with him.

My parents are selling the home that I grew up in in Orofino. I recently went up and took photos for their listing. Memories flooded in. My dad never lived their……but so much of Orofino reminds me of him.

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My mom and my Dad divorced when I was 2. I was raised by 3 awesome parents…..my mom, my dad Paul, and my step-dad Rod. When I took pictures of the empty house (especially this one) I remembered standing on the front porch, when he dropped me off, and watching him drive away. I can still feel the door knob in my right hand, the screen door open on my left, and watching his car until it disappeared. Looking back I think I always sort of knew each moment was precious.

And then last week this photo showed up in a Facebook group for memories from the 6C area.

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That’s my Dad! Paul Richardson. People (most of whom I do not know) shared their memories below the photo. And they were stories I had never heard;). A lady mentioned that she still had a book that he had lent her….”The Fountainhead” by Ayn Rand. And then later someone mentioned that the book he is reading in this photo is also by Ayn Rand. I’ve never read a book that my dad read. And I’m so excited to read these, clearly some of his favorites. Chase ended up surprising me with a copy for Mother’s Day (he’s the best). Another connection that I never expected.

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And as I age, the resemblance is undeniable. Our pointy chins, black eyes, thin lips, and expressive eyebrows. It occurred to me that I am the same age as he was, during some of my fondest memories of him.

I see whispers of him, in the faces and spirits of my children.

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I see him in Laken’s fierce independence and feisty nature. I see him in her pointy chin, and rounded cheeks.

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I see his eyes, when I look into River’s. I see his gate in the way River walks (kicking his feet). I see his spirit in River’s big emotions.

I started this post several weeks ago, not knowing I would see him show up in another big way.

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These are his feet! As soon as we met our prescious boy, I saw them. The longest gangly toes, that I will never forget. There is no doubt that my Dad is finding the humor in all of this.

Stone and I recently attended my Aunt Red’s funeral. She was the last of my dad’s living siblings. My cousin Darren took one look at Little Stone and said, “Im not sure how this happened, but those are Paul’s feet!” And they are, no doubt about it;)

We joyfully welcome the newest member of our family, Stone Maxwell Simpson!

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More posts to come on this special little guy, our son!

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One thought on “My memory loves you, it asks about you all the time

  1. Savannah says:

    Such a lovely post. It’s all so bittersweet. Orofino, too reminds me so much of my Dad. A memory on every street in that town. Thank
    s for sharing Rainy,

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