Most of the time I could amuse myself with the scenery of darkness until, minutes or hours later, I dozed off to sleep. I saw mythological beings in the cracks on my walls, and landscapes in the shadows on the ceiling. If I wasn’t sleepy, my eyes stayed open, and my mind concocted all kinds of tales. That is, I could fall asleep anywhere if I was tired. Sleeping, then or now, was rarely a problem for me. If I was tired I could curl up in the corner of a stranger’s sofa, doze off leaning against an overstuffed arm chair, cat nap in the back seat of a car, or snooze, chin couched in hand, at my school desk. I could fall asleep anywhere when I was a child. Reg, as I promised on your day of crossing over, we continue to love you and will never stop. I know this is overlong for a web publication, but I offer it today as a birthday song for my incredible father. He was so much to so many! Years ago, I had an essay published in Fathersongs (Beacon Press 1997), a gem of a collection of essays on African-American fathers edited by Gloria Wade Sales. I love the legacy he left me and take great joy in the sharing stories about him involving friends and family. His spirit continues to nourish me and lift me when I face mountains that seem too steep to climb.
This entry was posted in Family Musings Writer Talk on Februby my father continued to age in his body of flesh and bones, he would be 93 today.