I can feel you watching…

It is in the moments that I manage to steal for myself, the moments when the sounds of family and life have quieted that I feel you watching me.   Your gaze lays heavy on my heart but leaves no burden.  I close my eyes and try to conger up the images of you that remain, the one’s time has not yet erased.  Most times they comfort me but sometimes they remind me of what is lost and cannot be regained.  As I lay still I can almost feel  your arms embrace holding me steady preventing me from falling into something deeper than my pain.  

In the clouds I see your smile, in the birds’ song I hear your song, in the eyes of my children I see the faith I once saw in yours; I try to mimic that faith and believe everything will be alright – if I believe long enough maybe it will.  As I tuck my children into their beds each night and listen to their prayers, “Dear God please take care of Grandpa,” I can feel you watching.  I wait for signs that you are watching even though I know in my heart you are there, perched upon God’s front porch as content as any man can be.  I know you want to reach out to  me as desperately as I want to reach out to you but we haven’t figured out how to cross through the barrier between this life and the one after. 

I can feel you watching me as I lose the battle between remembering and forgetting – remembering always seems to win.  I can feel you watching me as I pretend to be strong while I fall a part in private.  Sometimes it helps to know you are watching; I always ‘straightened up and flew right’  under your supervision. 

Dear father your gaze is always welcome.

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