Butterfly Kisses to Heaven

Donald Lyle Hein

Is it August already?

And so goes another month in the life of the Long Party of Five. I just don't know where time seems to go these days... oh yeah, working, keeping up with three little ones, trying to organize our house, sew some new outfits for the kids, plan Anna's 5th birthday bash, plan Jack's baptism, and sleep just a tad...

August has become a melancholy month for me - it is the month I said goodbye to my Daddy. It's funny how certain months, dates, times become so significant for me. Sometimes I wish I was able to just distance myself - so I could let the days come and go with no remembrance - but then I wouldn't be me.

I've always celebrated the milestones - good and bad - which is why birthdays, anniversaries, holidays are so important to me.

As we come closer and closer to the day my dad took his last breath, I'm finding myself becoming increasingly anxious. I don't know why - it's just a day, right?

I'm not sure how I want to spend it. Right now I'm thinking of getting a bunch of balloons, picking the kids up early from school, taking them to the park, talking about my dad - and then letting them send their balloons up to him in heaven.

Or I could just bury my head in the sand and wallow a bit - but that's not nearly as productive.

I think I'm more at peace this year than in previous ones - I feel more able to look back on the memories of his life with smiles rather than tears. I think I'm coming to accept his death - even though I still hate it happened so early - and way too soon. But to be perfectly honest, I'm still pretty sad and angry - especially since Jack arrived - one more grandson that my dad never got to meet.

At any rate, Wednesday is rapidly approaching...

Heart and Soul

My paternal grandmother was a whiz on the organ. She had an old organ in her living room, and loved to crank it up when we would come to visit. I remember watching her fingers fly over the two tiers of keys, her feet moving over all the pedals, and her eyes twinkling as she peered at us over her glasses.

Her love of music transposed to my dad, who played the piano and the trombone. One of the first songs he ever taught me to play on the piano was 'Heart and Soul.' It was fun because one of us would play the upper part, and the other the lower.

You may remember this song from the movie "Big." It's the song Tom Hanks played with his boss on the floor piano at FAO Schwartz. I didn't think much about the song until today. Our new spiffy Honda Odyssey came equipped with XM Satellite Radio (and a complimentary three-month membership.) One of the stations I've come to adore is the 40's station - where they play all those cool WWII era songs, Bing, Rosemary, Frank - that somehow always remind me of Christmas carols.

After dropping the kids at daycare this morning I tuned the XM to the 40's station from the Kids station we'd listened to on our trek to the University. The song that was playing? Heart and Soul.

I'd never heard the 'real' version of it, only what my grandmother cranked out on the organ or what my dad and I plunked out on the piano. It was wonderful. It made me smile.

It made me miss my dad. And my grandma.

I suppose dad is on my mind more often these days, as tomorrow he would have celebrated his 66th birthday. This is his 4th birthday we'll celebrate without him.

It still hurts. Oh, we'll still celebrate - we'll still have birthday cake and sing 'happy birthday' to Grandpa Don in heaven - but it still hurts. Deep down. That ache that lets me know something is missing.

I hate that Anna has no memory of him - just a few photos of the one time dad saw her and held her. I hate that James and Jack never met him at all. I hate that they are all growing up without their grandpa and all of the wonderful things he could have shared with them, like his love of boating or taught them, like his love of cooking. Or perhaps, their first piano lesson.

Heart and soul daddy. I miss you with all of mine.

Sassy

I was a girl with a sharp tongue. I was sassy - and would/could back talk to my mother like a pro. I had to get the last word in - no matter the consequences. I drove my father crazy. There were times he'd tell me to just stop talking. "Be Quiet" he'd yell at me. And I was stubborn. As a mule.

I was twelve.

Sometime in my mid adolescence I realized being sassy and stubborn got me no-where. Thankfully I found my filter - and learned not to tell everyone everything I was thinking at the moment I thought it.

Anna is a girl with a sharp tongue. She is sassy as can be, and back talks to Deonne and I with the ease of a teenager. She is strong willed. And stubborn. As a mule. She has no filter.

She's four.

We're doomed.

And I'm sure my daddy is laughing at me from Heaven.