Since my dad died seven years ago, summers have been a harsh reminder that he’s no longer here. Father’s Day usually kicks off my summer of sadness, followed by the date of his passing in July, and his birthday in August.
Fortunately, this year was different. I spent today with my family for the first time in those seven years (crazy!), and it couldn’t have been a more perfect day.
The younglings and I ran to a train museum on a whim, and as it turned out, there was no better way to honor my dad (their papa) than by taking a ride on a mini train and playing on vintage Santa Fe engines and cars.
The railroad is in our blood, after all. So it’s no surprise we were drawn there without even thinking about it.
Funny how family can make a sad day a lot less blue.
