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Spring Has Sprung, and Memories Too

I am writing this outside on my deck, enjoying the sounds of chirping birds and an ambitious woodpecker searching for food. Early buds sprout on the trees and even a crocus or two has popped its head up in the garden. I hear my father’s voice, exaggerating his London accent, declaring, “Spring has sprung, the grass is riz, I wonder where the birdies is?”

Corny, I know, but it’s something he would say every spring and I truly wish I could hear him say it again right now.

Perhaps it’s because I’m sipping a cup of Lipton’s tea; or maybe it’s because today would have been his birthday; perhaps it’s because this weekend I’m going to a wedding and I can’t help but regret that he died before he could walk me down the aisle. Whatever the reason, I am missing him today.

My dad wasn’t perfect- but he was good, and kind and decent. He worked hard to support his family and he loved to share the fruits of his labor with those around him. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than Christmas day, watching us open gifts he gave us. I think he’d had so little growing up in war-torn London, that he enjoyed giving whatever he could to his children.

He’s been gone over twenty years now, and I still think about him. I miss his annoying cheerfulness in the mornings and his pub-style piano playing at night. I wonder what he would have thought of what I’ve done with my life so far. I wish he could have met my kids, I know he would have loved them and they would have thought he was a hoot!

So I just want to remind you all to take a moment today to give the ones close to you and extra hug or call a loved one who’s living far away. I sure do wish I could do the same with my dad. But for now, I’ll have another sip of tea and reminisce a little more on this glorious spring afternoon.

16 Replies to “Spring Has Sprung, and Memories Too”

  2. In my early piano playing days i played a song similar to that but it was wonder where the flowers is? They are nowhere to be found cause their underground. A lovely tribute to your father — mine was cheery in the morning too — which was especially painful during my teen years.

  3. That was a wonderful tribute to your father. I too think of my folks often, wishing there had been more moments to share. I have a framed photo of my parents, with this poem below, by Judith Karen Bulock, Titled, “Remember Me”:

  4. Oops…here’s the poem:

    REMEMBER ME

    Remember me when flowers bloom
    Early in the spring
    Remember me on sunny days
    In the fun that summer brings

    Remember me int he fall
    As you walk through the leaves of gold
    And in the wintertime- remember me
    In the stories that are told

    But most of all remember
    Each day- right from the start
    I will be forever near
    For I live within your heart

  5. Kim – your dad would be SO PROUD of you. You’re not only a wonderful mom, but an inspiring example to many. I love your writing, and I love you!

  7. That’s when I found his morning whistling the hardest to deal with! Oy vey! But one of my fondest memories is how he would make my mom tea and toast every morning and bring it up to her in bed. So sweet.

  11. Wow. That’s left me in a melancholy mood, bringing back lot’s of memories of my grampa who lived with us when I was young. Remembering all of his little eccentricities that made him special. One thing he used to do is put peanut butter in his coffee. The aromatic steam was quite intoxicating. Thanks for sharing the reminiscences of your father and awakening my own recollections.

  12. Peanut butter in coffee??? I’ve never heard of such a thing! I hope the melancholy receded and you were left with good feelings after your reminiscing.

  13. I too think your Dad would be hugely proud of you, Kim. But I think he would be happiest knowing that he had given you loving memories to call on when you miss him.

  16. If your dad is the man you say he is, I know he’d be proud of you and your children. What father wouldn’t?

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