Strawberries for Saturday

I'm so glad it's Saturday.  

All week I felt as though I was walking the tectonic plates beneath people - all sorts of different kinds of people.  Or being drenched as though under a faucet.

I was really missing my dad this week and wished that I could go and sit on his bed and ramble on to him and ask him my questions.  That's what I did when I was a little girl, and that's what I would have done this time last year.  But my dad's room at Centennial Place is filled with someone else's life now, and because of that I sometimes feel lost.  I'm a bit lonely without him in the world because he was the only one who knew that I was his Princess.  I was the only one he brought strawberries to at the end of his long work week travelling on the road.  My dad was always happy when Saturday came too.

My dad always said that you have to put one foot in front of the other, and I always know what my own shoes feel like. When I was a little girl, it was something that I really really knew.   

Don't hide from yourself,  he said.  Not very many people are ever able to break free from their cocoon, he said. 

His voice comes like that sometimes, and his picture also shows up on my screen-saver sometimes too.

This is the one that popped up today....  my dad really loved being served first.