Dad And The Canadian Geese

On the back of this photograph, written in my grandmother's undeniable script, it reads;

Robert Owen, 1947

That would have made him fourteen, and fourteen years later I would be born. It's funny how time (and age) changes your perspective. As a child fourteen years seemed like an eternity, but when I look at this picture it just amazes me how much his life changed over the next fourteen years.  From a young teenage boy in small town Texas, to a young man who was married, a father and living in a home he owned in the suburbs of the big city.

I didn't mention the geese in my header in my previous post, because there is a specific reason that I included them. They were not part of the original image I found online, but as a little tribute to my dad, I wanted to include them. So I found a silhouette image and added them in and I just love that every time I look at it, I am reminded of my dad.

I am not sure at what age my dad became fascinated with geese. But my guess is that as a young boy growing up on a small farm, he probably saw his share flying high above in that big Texas sky. What I do know is that I swear he could hear them coming from miles away, because as soon as he heard the faintest hint, he was outside looking for them, calling out to me or anyone else to join him. Then he would stand, expectantly, until he caught first sight of them, which was always followed by,

"Boy, just look at them go!"

I can't even tell you the number of times that scene played out in my childhood, all I do know is that it seemed he never missed them, and he often remarked how beautiful they were.

As a young mother I recall a picnic we went on once at a local park, and how excited he was to find geese walking along the banks of the pond.  He hurriedly rallied the kids to show them. I don't recall him knowing a lot about them, all that mattered to him was that he found them beautiful and they fascinated him. My dad liked sharing the things he loved with the people he loved, geese and the stars!

It wasn't until after I lost my dad in 2008 that the geese took on special meaning for me. I read a quote recently that depicts it perfectly.

"You never know the value of a moment,

until it becomes a memory"

 - Theodore Seuss Geisel

After dad died, every time I would hear a goose honking it was as if somehow, he was nearby.  All those special moments I shared with him, watching a flock fly high over head . . . are now some of the sweetest memories I carry.

Last Autumn when Bill and I were camping in West Virginia, we heard a flock land near the lake pictured at the top of this post, and the next morning I stood in awe as they swept high into flight above me on to their next destination.  It was a moment I will never forget, sacred, really.

A few years ago Bill bought this beautiful wooden goose for me for my birthday. It may be my most treasured possession. For the time being it is safely tucked in a corner in our bedroom, though when I took this picture (from our previous apartment), I kept it in the middle of the dining room table.  But it topples a little and doesn't stand very steady, and I'm fearful it will fall over and break, so until I find a better solution, I'm keeping it in a safe place.

I'm hoping to see geese on our trip this week, and when I do I'll think of my dad. He never missed them, but oh how deeply I miss him!

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We are out of town for a few days, camping, so I won't be replying to comments, 
but I do have several days worth of posts lined up, so be sure to check back!
I'll check back in this weekend!