who woke up on a Sunday missing her Dad. Not just any Sunday, but his birthday when he would have turned 81. And she was sad... and the skies were mottled and gray, dripping with her grief...
Until she noticed the pink around the edges of the grey, or what some would call the silver lining.
And so she started to think of happier times. The crazy, goofy, silly times they had shared.
And how last year a great, big, huge, gathering of people squeezed themselves together in 1 tiny house to celebrate eighty years of a life well lived. And the girl smiled, knowing exactly what she would do.
So she gathered up her family and went back to that tiny house.
And even though her father's shoes and his hat with the big cow on it were exactly where he had left them, she smiled. With her family at her side she packed left behind belongings, cleaned up the yard, and sat wrapped in her memories.
And when they tired of swatting at mosquitoes they left and enjoyed one last stop.
A little ice cream...
And a little cake to celebrate as the girl knew her daddy loved to do. And even though she still missed him, her sky that day, was no longer dripping with grief.