Burnt Toast for Dad

I ate my Dad’s favorite toast today – burnt. He always said that ‘a little charcoal was good for digestion.’

Well I didn’t intend to eat burnt toast. But the small end toasted more quickly than the other two pieces in the toaster oven. So, VOILA! A tribute to dad!

It intrigues me the way small memories pop up when we least expect them. I’m thinking that some of this ‘memory-stuff’ is a result of reading about the death of Robin Williams, Lauren Bacall, and others this week. It creates a domino effect of emotions and memories. Quite often a number of thoughts just below the surface of our consciousness seem to bubble up.

And so, the ‘burnt toast memory’, followed by a smile.

I’m thinking today of several friends who are struggling with recent deaths in their lives. I find myself wanting to hug them through their grief, wanting to tell them to cry and let all those emotions break free, wanting to help carry the hurt. I want them to know that there will be a breakthrough, a parting of the darkness that right now suffocates, leaving such a strange heaving boulder where their heart should be.

Most importantly I want to encourage them to believe – just believe – that one day, a ‘burnt toast memory’ will surface. And they will smile. Hurt does move on to healing. But it truly takes time.

In the meantime, I will relish my early morning ‘burnt toast memory’ and smile. Here’s to your first memory that brings a smile in place of tears.

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