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| Dallas Arboretum 2017 |
For decades, I lived far from my family due to being a military spouse. Every year or two I would visit my childhood home and when it was time to return to my husband in another state, I would become sad with the realization I wouldn't see my family for years. My parents were aging and my sisters were growing from little girls to young women and I was missing it all. Birthday's, holidays and special occasions were celebrated without me. One time on the way to the airport I was yet again sad to say goodbye. My dad noticed and so eloquently stated, "Your heart is in two places." He was correct. Nobody knows their children like their parents. The two most important men in my life were states apart.
October 2018 my parents moved to within 15 minutes of my home and I was able to spend time with them in a way I never had before. My dad helped me build a raised garden bed and potting bench, we had father-daughter talks in the "barn", he bought a chainsaw for me and taught me how to use it. My parents and I hung out at the coffee shop and enjoyed ice-cream at a local shop. We had Thanksgiving and Christmas together. All the things I had missed out on for decades. Looking back, I'm so grateful for those five short months of time with my dad being nearby.
My dad was like a kid at Christmas except he was more excited to give gifts then to receive! I'll never forget Christmas 2018 when my dad bought a gift for me to use on my property. He hid it in his garage. He wrapped the remote control for the garage inside multiple boxes and handed them to me. He explained how he had thought carefully about this gift and knew how much I would use it. I proceeded to open box after box and finally got to a remote control and was perplexed as to why he would give me a remote control. He said to follow him outside and as we walked towards the garage he said, " I wonder why the lights are on in the garage" as he toyed with me. I opened the garage to find a utility trailer covered in multi-color Christmas lights. My dad was a good listener and knew I frequently would carry tree limbs to brush piles one by one on our property, so the trailer would make it easier for me.
I remember when I was younger, I didn't know how to relate to my dad. When I'd call home I always asked for my mom. Over time, I became closer to my dad and would sometimes call home just to talk to him. I always told him how much I loved him. I think as I matured I started to understand my dad and why he was tough on me growing up. He knew what I was capable of achieving, he held me accountable and he provided me with opportunities he didn't have. For that, I will always be grateful.
My dad's 1956 Ford sits in our building or "barn" as my dad called it. The '56 Ford is the car he bought from his brother, he and my mom "cruised" in the Ford while dating, and is also the car they brought me home from the hospital in when I was born. My dad and husband had plans to get it in better running condition. A couple weeks before he died, he was in our barn and I walked down to say hello. He was enthusiastically showing me how everything was unpacked and he was ready to start working on the 1930 Ford hot-rod with my husband. He had recently re-titled the hot-rod in Texas and put the car in my husband's name and his own. He kept saying, "If anything ever happens to me I want to make sure Aaron gets this car." Obviously, we had no idea within a short time my dad would be gone. My dad was so excited to have all his cars, tools and parts in one location with plenty of space to work on them. What I didn't know at the time was my husband and dad had talked for over 20 years about living close enough to one another to be able to work on the cars together. My husband was the son he never had.
For weeks after my dad passed, I couldn't bring myself to walk into the building because to walk into it made me face the reality that my dad was no longer on this Earth. It feels like time stopped, because everything is exactly the way he left it. His work apron hangs on a dolly, his oil rags are on the work bench and his writing is on boxes of parts. When I walk into the building now, I touch his car and tell him, "I miss you and love you dad."
What has caught me off guard is my emotional response when I watch my husband and family grieving. One part of me feels less alone, but another part grieves even more when I see how much others loved my dad. Knowing how others felt about my dad reinforces my belief of how exceptional he was. There are some men who are fathers in title, but my father was one by actions. He was one of the good guys. My dad always put his "girls" (I'm one of four daughters and my mom makes five) first and wanted to see us happy and protected.
I have so many fond memories of my dad of which I could fill pages, but I will end on a happy note. My dad and husband shared a liking for Snickers bars. Apparently my dad had bought a big box at Costco with the intention of giving one to my husband each time they got together. After he passed away, my mom found the box of Snickers bars in his closet with a few missing he had already shared. That was my dad....always thinking of how to make other people smile and feel special.
I miss you daddy and although this upcoming Father's Day will be emotionally difficult, I find peace in knowing I'll see you in Heaven one day.
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| Timothy Allen Lindstrom 1946-2019 |
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| 1992 My dad and husband working on a hot-rod fender. |
