We returned home from a family service with Husband's parents, dinner, and looking at lights. Our hearts are light...but we are tired. We are thankful all is ready for the morning.
Except the stockings.
I quickly located them in a bag. I counted out seven big boot sacks. I mention quickly that I am glad I didn't find my dad's thinking it was in a bag in another room.
Then his fell out onto the chair. I notice it has some heft to it. I reach in my arm recognizes the small flags that veteran organizations brought to him in hospice. My hand seizes something metal and a wave of emotion and shock pulsate through my body. I look at Husband and exclaim, "His watch!" and the fount of tears comes forth. I cannot control it. My girls watch in wonder as I hold the watch tight and Husband holds me tighter. My oldest begins to cry, too. Later my middle one says, "I'm gunna give you some love, okay?" Sweet girls.
My dad was kind of obsessed with his watch. He pretty much went batty when he didn't have it. It was one of the first things he requested to have when he left the hospital. However, he only wore it for a time while in hospice because it became too big for him. However, it was always on his bedside or he would have it in his lap.
Oddly, the watch is still keeping time and the day is still correct. The date is off but I think that came from the months with only 30 days and my dad would have to change it to the first when it read 31.
While the discovery was quite emotional...it was quite providential. Healing. Welcome.
