The Absence is Haunting

written 10-2023

The absence is haunting

I'm in Alabama visiting my daughter. I've been to my Dad's place twice this visit. The lack of his presence makes the place feel haunted. Sadness just permeates the place. My daughter can barely go into his home. She says she experiences vertigo every time she enters his house.
There is a huge tree directly in front of his home. He wouldn't allow anyone to trim the limbs. He was afraid it would harm the tree. When I was here this summer taking care of things for him we discovered the tree limbs dragging across the roof severely damaged his home. So, we trimmed limbs so we could what repairs had to be made.
The tree has lost more leaves than the other trees in the yard. If this tree dies I will be heartbroken.
I didn't realize how much of a presence my Dad had until he was no longer here.

My baby brother

My Baby Brother

 My baby brother is gone. That is incomprehensible to me. Paul is supposed to be here. He is supposed to call me PL in THAT tone when we disagree on things. But he is gone. I can’t imagine a world without him in it.

Paul was born in Fort Worth, Texas right before I turned three. That is fitting. Paul’s heart was as big as Texas.

We were lucky. Our parents wanted to explore places. On the weekends we traveled all over the State. We went to Dinosaur Valley State Park and got dinosaur hunting licenses. Let me tell you- this was amazing. What dinosaur should we hunt first? Should we keep it as a pet? Can a T Rex fit in the bathtub? Would it eat the dog?

In Arizona, we explored everything: the Grand Canyon, Sunset Crater, the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest, Montezuma’s Castle, the Casa Grande Ruins, and the coolest place of all….Bedrock City.

My dad loved motorcycles, and he loaded us up on the weekends we didn’t travel and we hit the White Tanks mountain range. We rode all over that desert, almost fell into abandoned mines, ran into many cacti, and told tales of the Superstition Mountains.

We spent a good part of our childhood in Georgia. We gathered frogs with our cousins, played under the house, ate dirt, and ate muscadines. With our cousins and best buddy (our grandpa), we enjoyed the Blizzard of 1973. We tried to build a snowman. None of us could figure out how to.

Our family took frequent trips to see our Alabama family.  We each got an RC cola and a bag of peanuts whenever we crossed the Alabama line. We bounced on our cousins’ trampoline until we were sunburned and thirsty, wandered all over the pasture on the family land, got chased by pigs, and Paul swore he saw a panther. Our favorite place was “The Little Grand Canyon” This was a large gully at the back of the property. A small trickle of water at the bottom was the cow’s water source. We tromped through it barefoot. We would return home muddy with an occasional leech on us.

My dad and grandpa would tease Paul about his “panther” sighting. I believe him. There are many critters in those woods (Wampus Cats).

But Middle Georgia was Paul’s home. He loved it. Georgia gave Paul comfort and many friends. It gives me comfort to know Paul was cherished by so many people.

Paul was one of a kind. He flirted harmlessly with every lady he talked to. He loved Dr Pepper. Anytime I told him that one of the kids was sick he told me to give them Dr Pepper and all would be right in the world.

Now our world has a huge void in it. The one and only Paul Tom is gone. Papa Smoke has gone to join our loved ones on the other side.