Three weeks ago today I watched as life support was discontinued and my sweet step dad slipped into Heaven. By the time we let his body go his soul had already been our guardian angel for two days.
Mostly I'm okay, we are okay. I have a pretty amazing family!
But then, standing in the checkout at Walmart a man in another check out puts his fishing tackle on the belt to pay for it and I feel the sting of tears that I know will refuse to stay behind my eyes.
They are rubber worms with hooks for God sakes! Hardly worth tears. But my fish-lovin' dad won't be buying any more damn rubber worms and that hurts. A LOT!
I tried to focus on the screaming kid beside us or the lady with the tattoo above her butt crack that said "In God We Trust". Anything but those fishing lures. I somehow managed a couple of errant tears but for the most part I didn't crumble at Walmart. Success, I guess.
When will fishing lures just be fishing lures and Sundays just be Sundays?