Karla's Father's Day Salute

Karla sat on the bench and allowed her eyes to roam the landscaping. The neatly trimmed grass was a brilliant summer green, stretching acres in any direction she chose to look. Towering trees provided shade as well as homes for the birds that filled the air with song and motion. Beyond the birdsong, if she listened, Karla could hear the bubbling of the fountain in the Serenity Garden. 

Color abounded. Bright reds, greens, and blues,  stark against the whites and grays they adorned. Newly placed decorations from the Memorial day holiday less than two weeks ago.

She shifted her attention to the monument at her feet.

Gerald Ramsey Monk

April 26 1933—July 14 2009

Beloved Husband and Father

Her lips turned up in a smile. This could be a sad place, but she refused to give into that. Dad’s suffering was over and He’d been resting in his heavenly father’s arms for several years. As much as she might miss him, he wouldn’t come back even if he could. Karla was good with that.

Voices reached her ears. Other people out paying tribute to fathers and husbands, gone, but not forgotten.

“I miss you, Dad. I brought a treat for us to share.”

She reached for the small white bag resting on the bench at her side and pulled out a warm custard filled pastry, iced in chocolate.

“Do you remember the first one of these we shared? I do. I was in the first grade and it was my first day to ride the school bus. I was already scared and that deserted corner didn’t help. I don’t remember if we were early or the bus was late, but I remember that you didn’t leave me there to wait alone. You took me into the little doughnut shop that sat on the same corner and told me I could have anything I wanted as long as I didn’t tell Mom.”

Karla took a bite of the gooey treat and wiped custard from her mouth. “You waited with me and even shared a sip of your coffee. I knew I was your best girl that day. You turned my fear into something special.”

She tore the rest of the doughnut in half, ate her portion, and slipped the other half behind the fading Memorial Day flowers. “I would have brought fresh flowers, but I figured you would enjoy this more.”

She stood and brushed crumbs from her fingers. “I miss you,” she repeated. “Hug Mom for me but don’t tell her I had a doughnut for breakfast. Happy Father’s Day.

***While you're here, Please take a few minutes to visit the tabs at the top of the page. Terri welcomes Becky Harling to her libraryBecky is here to talk about her book THE 30 DAY PRAISE CHALLENGE. Becky will be giving away a copy of her book at the end of the week. Karla welcomes Stephanie McCall and Vickie McDonough to her page for a sneak peak at their upcoming releases. Callie has a devotion prepared for us by Penny McGinnessPam has a recipe for Strawberry cheese cake cobbler.***  

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