I Keep Seeing You Daddy

If you've lost someone, you'll get this. If you haven't, someday you will.

I keep seeing you Daddy

A few weeks ago we went to the Flying W Ranch in Colorado Springs. BBQ, music and lots of people in a western setting.

And I saw you.

You were wearing a cap and a short sleeve plaid shirt. You had faded jeans on. And of course, you had THOSE suspenders. The bright multi-colored ones. Nothing really matched.

But you didn't care.

You hobbled around looking at the western sites. And in line for chow, you smiled easily and chatted with the man in front of you.

I watched from afar.

I pointed you out to John.

He said, "Wow. Amazing likeness."

Later on, when the country western band was playing, I looked for you across the sea of picnic tables and laughing families. I wanted to see you smile one more time.

I couldn't find you.

When the fiddler started in on "Orange Blossom Special" I laughed out loud.

Remember when you used to play that for us? I saw the train everytime you made your bow dance across the strings of the fiddle you made with your calloused welder hands.

I strained my neck and looked through the crowd. But it was too dark. I couldn't see you.

Just the other day we went to the Country Buffet restaurant and there you were. You were hobbling along in a different outfit. But it was you. I watched you smile at some woman.

I elbowed John and pointed to you.

He just whispered, "Wow."

Noah asked, "What is it?"

I hold him that a man who looked just like Grandpa Walker was across the restaurant.

"But he's dead, right?"

"Yes, Noah. He's been gone for almost five years."

But I keep seeing you Daddy.

It pulls at my heart. Makes me miss you. Your presence in my life.

I'll always see you in my memories.

And someday, face to face.

Are you playing the "Orange Blossom Special" for Him?

I bet God laughs out loud when your bow dances across the strings.