When I woke up this morning, there was something oddly familiar about the day. It was sunny and warm but there was a crispness to the air that screamed fall. Yes, the weather today was exactly as it had been that bitter day many years earlier. The smell of autumn in the air, the crisp leaves ruffling in the wind. At moments the sun felt scorching hot and other moments, cool and fresh.
I was about to embark on a new experience as a volunteer for Habitat for Humanity and it was the perfect day for such an adventure. Today marked 15 years since my fathers’ passing and I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate his life than to give back to my community-the way he had given back as a dedicated and adorned teacher for so many years. As I sat there, learning to install windows, learning to use power tools, learning to… build a home, I thought about all the students that graced his classroom and how much they learned from him. I thought about how he inspired and influenced them-the way he had done for his very own children. I thought about how much he would have loved to have been by my side today, doing the things he loved; giving back, teaching, learning.
Years ago, my brother volunteered with Habitat for Humanity in Portugal. He helped build a home for a lovely family and he still speaks about that experience with such fondness. He says it was one of the most memorable times in his life and now, I can see why.
When I came home, with blisters on my hands and calluses on my feet, with an aching back and sawdust in my hair, I hugged my children the way my father hugged me. Tightly. With sheer delight. With pure, unequivocal love.
We had soup for dinner- a favorite main meal of my dad’s. Coincidental and fitting at the same time. I hadn’t thought of it when I planned the meal, or woke up to the same sort of cool yet warm day, or said yes to an incredible volunteer experience, but everything about today seemed appropriate. Every single thing.
