After speaking with my Daddy this morning, I thought of my mother, Honey. Talking to Daddy is like talking to Honey. They were one in the same for 60 years. Oh, they had different characteristic personality traits, but at the end of the day, they were one. I've got Daddy trained to check in with me daily, usually with an early morning phone call. He doesn't realize it, but our brief conversation each morning really kick-starts my day.
Honey passed away a little over a year ago, but not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of her and missed her. She loved her two boys, Michael and me, more than she loved life, I believe. There was no sacrifice too great when she thought it would contribute to our upbringing. Of course, Daddy was right along there with her in thought and deed.
I really don't know where this post is going, but it was just some thoughts on my mind. Daddy will be 84 this coming month. I hope we have him for a while longer. He's doing good without Honey around to "advise" him on things. I'm sure most of that is on the outside. On the inside, Daddy misses Honey more than any of us ever could.
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