Every now and then, I remember some memory of Jeff that I haven't thought of in some time. These memories both hurt and feel like little gifts. For a moment, I feel like crying for all that is lost and all that could have been. But I also feel like laughing....
Jeff and his love of the Jackson Five. I loved to watch him dance. He'd hunker down and groove. When he danced with me, he'd swing me around and spin me like I wasn't the 5'10 woman that I am. I was small in his arms. Liv loved to be flung in the air and would squeal with delight as he sang 'ABC' to her whilst wiggling her little arms up in the air.
Jeff often brought home truly odd food home to share with his fearless daughter. They shared rattlesnake, crocodile and would eat solomon gundy regularly. If Daddy would eat it, so would Liv.
The gift of Briar's name. Jeff had thought of it and to this day I am thankful that he chose it. When I look around at all the beautiful wooden toys he made for Liv with the words "To Olivia Love Daddy" written underneath, it makes me sad for our little man that he doesn't have things that his daddy made just for him. But his name. His name was from his daddy.
Jeff's hard hat. He never wore it, except around the house. I don't know what he really thought he needed it for but he was so stoked that it was shaped like a cowboy hat.
Silly little things pleased him just as they would excite a little boy. All these little moments, these seemingly inconsequential snippets of his life, have become the warm comfortable quilt that wraps around us when we need him...when we miss him. I can tell our little ones the stories of their daddy, the amazing, kind, funny, loving and irritating man that he was and how he loved them so very, very much.
The Firehouse Chronicles Episode 12
1 week ago