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What else do you say.

I used to ask him to read to me. Before I knew how to read for myself. Even after I knew how. He always read with a calm, low voice. It was comforting. It was distant. Safe. Mostly, I just wanted to hear his voice--the stories came second.

It's been years since I asked him to read to me. But that makes sense. I can read for myself. I don't hear the movie voices reading. I don't hear my fake voices reading. I don't even hear my own voice reading. I hear his. And I wish I was six years old, curled up on the couch again. Looking at the pictures. Looking at the bookmark. Watching the pages turn.

I don't know how many times I asked him to read Alice in Wonderland to me, but it was a lot. I wish he could read to me again.

I haven't heard from him in a couple of weeks now. It was different when he traveled to different states. We wouldn't hear from him because he was too busy. But it was just a matter of time before he'd call. He always called. I never worried.

I worry now, though. Now, there might be a reason I don't hear from him. I hope not.

I miss him.

Comments

Spen said…
Bro the way you love your dad is so awesome. I will be praying for him, and for Father God to provide for you there and be a refuge!
February 8, 2009 at 11:21 PM
Spen said…
PS - Felt like God wants to speak to you out of Psalm 91

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."

Sweet! This is cool too:

"Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you." 2Peter 5:7
February 8, 2009 at 11:23 PM
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