I was standing in my kitchen ironing yesterday
When a wild wind blew up
It was part of a rainstorm racing along the Uncompahgre Plateau, filling the canyons with droplets of very wet liquid
The storm was rambunctious, but only on the plateau
I continued ironing, watching the storm clouds throwing spears of lightening
When suddenly the back door flew open. I turned quickly thinking I also heard a pick-up drive up
The door opened; banged and I heard “LINDA!”
“What”, I replied. Feeling very puzzled.
Twice more the door flew open and twice more I heard my name
Then I realized it was my Dad calling me for the voice then said: “Come here, Linda”. (Or did he say: “I am here, Linda.”?)
I went to the door and then on outside; standing on the back step my heart fluttering in my rib cage
I wasn’t afraid, just eager to see my Dad again.
Just once more. To actually see him and hold his hand, like I was a tot again.
But, of course, he wasn’t there. There was only the wind, the yard, and a storm dropping lush moisture on canyon rims.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
Life on a Colorado Farm 
How wonderful LInda… and how glorious your garden and all your pots look… to see summer like that while we cope with winter is so beautiful , the only flowers in my garden are the white arum lilies, and lots of cyclamen in pots, even in little pink buckets holding small ones lining the steps all the way down to the house…Much love, Valerie ,
LikeLike
Your winter is so much lovelier than ours…come winter we are all brown and frozen, nothing growing. Sigh.
LikeLike
Of course he’s right there. He doesn’t need to make such a commotion! He’s always right there…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope so…he is missed.
LikeLike
This is a beautiful pairing of words and pictures.
LikeLike
Thank you, George.
LikeLike
Voices of a storm…
LikeLike
Yes
LikeLike
What is this strange activity…ironing?
LikeLike
Yes, I still iron.
LikeLike
Ironing and storms just go together. I still iron too. It was one of those moments when you were quiet enough to hear him call to you. They never really leave but are just without the solid covering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I miss that solid covering. Sigh.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh Linda. I feel for you. I have been missing my parents so much lately. It’s palpable. All the time, but sometimes more than others.
LikeLike
That palpable feeling is so hard to bear at times. Hugs
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was the longing in your heart that heard your dad. Somewhere I have an iron from long ago and memories of that task. Luckily, dim memories.
LikeLike
You know I actually like to iron. I used to iron EVERYTHING, sheets, tea towels, everything. But now days only things that wrinkle badly like shirts.
LikeLike
Charlee: “Our Dada says he still sometimes thinks he hears Dennis’s ears flapping or his nails scrabbling on the floors.”
Lulu: “Hmm, he might just be hearing me.”
Chaplin: “Your nails, maybe, but those ears of yours don’t flap, Lulu.”
LikeLike
I am sure Dennis is still there. I sometimes feel my kitties
LikeLike
I iron very little. I have heard voices…and one time saw my Father In Law. Sometimes I think that those we love that have died are close most of the time:)
LikeLike
I think you are right…it sure felt like it yesterday
LikeLike
Oh my dear Linda .. my eyes are damp. Hugs my friend I’m sure he is with you ..
LikeLike
Me too. Just miss them all sometimes.
LikeLiked by 1 person