This Tinnitus Tuesday is a thank you to my first meditation and mindfulness teacher - my Dad - who passed away last month. It’s thanks to my Dad that you are reading this blog right now...
Lisa, What a lovely tribute to your father. I am sorry for the loss - I am sure it is immense. You will find yourself thinking many times that "I'll just give my Dad a call to ask him about this... oh." My mother used to say of her own parents that, although gone, she felt very strongly that they "were in the next room." Nearby. Close. I hope you feel that way too. Peace, David
Thank you David, it's exactly like that. When my dad was in better shape he used to love rose-spotting on his walks to and from the park. When he passed by gardens with roses growing near the wall or fence, he'd use his walking stick to gently hook them towards him so he could inhale their fragrance. As he found it harder to walk I used to do it for him and send him pictures for vicarious pleasure. Now the roses are out I keep thinking ooh I'll just sniff this and send a pic to Dad...
Lovely.
Thank you, Tammy
Thanks for sharing this beautiful tribute to your dad. Such a meaningful life and legacy. Sincere condolences to you.
Thank you x
Thanks for sharing your wonderful father and his legacy with your readers. I'm sorry for your loss.
Thank you x
Lovely! All the hugs.
Thank you, Cathy x
Lisa, What a lovely tribute to your father. I am sorry for the loss - I am sure it is immense. You will find yourself thinking many times that "I'll just give my Dad a call to ask him about this... oh." My mother used to say of her own parents that, although gone, she felt very strongly that they "were in the next room." Nearby. Close. I hope you feel that way too. Peace, David
Thank you David, it's exactly like that. When my dad was in better shape he used to love rose-spotting on his walks to and from the park. When he passed by gardens with roses growing near the wall or fence, he'd use his walking stick to gently hook them towards him so he could inhale their fragrance. As he found it harder to walk I used to do it for him and send him pictures for vicarious pleasure. Now the roses are out I keep thinking ooh I'll just sniff this and send a pic to Dad...