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This past Sunday was January 5th, the anniversary of my dad's death. Not many people in my life remembered the significance

of the day for me, but I don't really expect them to. After all, it's been 47 years since my dad

died. I think it's probably like that for a lot of you listening as well. Do you have dates on your

calendar that you silently dread? Dates others in your life forgot long ago or maybe

never even knew.

I mentioned earlier that I've been trying to spend a few minutes each day with the child

I was when my dad died, talking to him, letting him know he isn't alone and that I see him.

Sunday, I imagined that child, me curled up in my dad's lap, feeling his warmth.

I tried to remember the sound of his voice and the feeling of safety and love I always had when I was with him.

I continue to be kind of embarrassed saying this out loud, but it was comforting.

Most of Sunday I spent with my kids,

Papa's sleeping.

And when I put my youngest, Sebastian, to bed,

Yeah, everybody's sleeping.

I sang him the same lullaby my dad sang to me.

He'd make up words to Brahms' lullaby, so I try to do the same.

Lullabies and good night to Sebastian and I love you. I'm even worse at singing and humming than he was, but it feels so remarkable, the cycles of life and families.

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