Three Months Gone

It really doesn't seem like it. But my father has been gone for three months now. I still miss him. Still think about him. Still there are little reminders of his absence and of his legacy. I know my mother is still trying to adjust as well. We talk about it often. I haven't heard much from my sister about it, though I'm sure her and the grand kids are doing their best to cope too.

I was thinking yesterday about him as I changed the oil in his tractor. He had mentioned it several times before he died that it needed to be done. Yesterday was a good day to do it finally. At first, I didn't think I would do it right since it would be my first time. But I just remembered all the stuff my father had taught me about oil changes and applied them to the tractor. After all, an engine is an engine. As I tried to loosen the oil plug, it wouldn't budge for love or money, no matter how hard I pushed or pulled in either direction. I had given up on loosening it and had already told my mother I couldn't get it loose. I felt like I had let her down some how. I gave it one more shot before officially giving up. It broke loose on the second attempt, probably because I had to rethink the direction, though I had tried with all my might in both directions and it wouldn't budge. I think my father gave me a little extra boost to keep from disappointing my mother and myself. Thanks Daddy!