My Nails

I haven't had my nails polished since February 29th.  This is how much they've grown since that day.  That was the day of my dad's viewing, the day before his funeral.  I don't know why I haven't polished them... or at least UN-polished them.  But it's been a nice reminder to think about my dad.


I don't know that I need the reminder.  I think about him all the time.  Mom and I go walking a couple of times a week.  That walk usually takes us through the cemetery where we stop by his grave.  Or I think about him when I'm having problems with my car... the old one, not the new one.  But I thought of him when I went to buy the new car too.  He most definitely would have had some insight that would have been helpful.  Or I think about him when I hear something he would have said.  That happens more than I thought it would.


I'm sure I don't think about him as often as my mom does.  But it's amazing to me how often I think of the dead.  We had another death in the local area this week, a really good guy, younger than me.  I've thought about him often in the last few days.


My mom told me once that she read that the dead hear us say their names.  So I find myself just saying Jesse or Dad every once in awhile, just to say hi, just to let them know I'm still thinking about them.  I hope they know we still think about them.


I figure the next time I cut my nails, all of the black polish will be gone.  But I'll still have plenty of reminders of my dad.