Jacks Pop...

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I was at my Moms house today helping her get some of her stuff packed up and ready to move. It is a difficult process and even more disturbing with the items she is finding and trying to find new homes for. She located a box of homemade things from when we were children. Cards, report cards, pictures, all kinds of kid stuff. The process of investigating these items made me recall my childhood. I remember making some of these things. In the process of cleaning out the room my Dad hung out in. We called it the smoking room since he was a heavy smoker and loved his tv room. Anyway he had the room decorated with alot if his memorabilia: firehouse, navy, golf, kids. His favorite stuff.
Today Mom and I went through a few of these things and I took the ones that we discussed Jack should have for his room. The poster size pic of Dad in Rome as a 19 yo sailor. When we took it off the wall it revealed to us that Dad had written a note on the back. It took both of our breaths away to read what he had written. He wrote his name and age rank location and that he was the one on the left. He wrote on there that the poster was a gift from his wife in 1992. I cried, hard hot tears of heartache. Just seeing his writing was a sigh from deep in my gut. The past week has been a tough one, whether it is fathers day or the weather or approaching anniversaries I have cried everyday.
I was talking to Andy today that I am sad that Jack wont have a Pop. He will really have a missing piece in his life without him. I know there are other good men in his life but he SHOULD HAVE HIS POP>
I put his new poster in his room tonight along with a Backdraft poster and a Naval academy poster and a photo of his Pop jumping from a window in the firehouse. A few Navy penants and stuff to keep his Pop around him as a young boy.
Last night as I laid with him in his bed I have visions of his Pop lookin in on us and smiling. As Jack ran around Nana and Pops yard today I hoped he was seeing the beautiful boy and his blue eyes sparkling and blond hair flying.
I had a dream the other night that he was sitting at the kitchen counter drinking coffee watching tv like nothin was new. OH FOR ONE MORE DAY.

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