This is a picture from 1970, taken on board the Lake Champlain ferry, in New York. My dad was almost 41, and he died just shy of his 64th birthday. I miss him so much. I had a really rough night the other night and when i finally fell asleep dreamt I was at my parents house. For whatever reason, in my dream I decided to lay down on my parents bed, and as I drifted to sleep, I felt my father's arms wrap around me and hold me close, like I was a little girl again. The sensation of being held was so vivid, and felt so real that the next morning I asked Eric if he had held me in the night without my being consciously aware of it, and he said he hadn't; it makes me smile to think my dad knew I needed comforting and hugged me in my dreams.
This is a bit different Father's Day for us because Eric is working today and his dad is in the hospital with pneumonia in IN. The viral crud he had while here never fully left him and settled into his lungs, so he was admitted for some iv antibiotics, fluids, and breathing treatments for a couple of days. It sounds like he is doing ok, for which we are all grateful, and we send him lots of love and prayers to be better soon! Everyone here is still coughing as well, to a greater or lesser degree, dependent on when it started, and given how rapidly it spread, I am so glad Eric took the two days off he did when he was at his worst. The VA hospital didn't need that stuff floating around...
Patrick and his girlfriend decided to be in charge of dinner tonight, which is very nice of them, so I have been doing laundry and working on my appliqué squares (Cat Academy). Now that the rain has quit I have a few other things to do as well, and my spouse is on the phone, so it's time to get going.
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