The Rock

Today was a rough day. Hell, this whole week has been my definition of awful. C has been sick for almost a week now. She went back the the doctor for the second time this week with a very high fever. I was stressed driving to the doctor, knowing that I have to face all of this alone while Andrew is offshore. 

I pulled her stroller out of the trunk while I was trying to calm my very upset child. I grabbed my purse and her diaper bag off the floorboard of the car. I was about to shove her diaper bag in the bottom of stroller when I noticed a rock sitting right in the middle. 

It wasn’t just a pebble. It was medium sized, tan, and kind of a triangle shape. It was unusual. One that someone might pick up if they collected them. I would know, because my dad was that someone.

He used to embarrass constantly about it. There was one time when he came to visit me in Tuscaloosa, and he made me pull over on the side of the road so he could take some rocks from this interesting rock formation. He was a geophysicist and found all things way too interesting.

When I saw that rock, my stress eased. I knew that he was with me, and that rock was his way of holding my hand and telling me that it would be alright. That was his way to tell me he was with me and that  he knew I could do this. I have never needed something more in my life. That was almost as good as a hug from him.

I had asked him earlier this week to send a sign to my mom for their 36th wedding anniversary (which is today). I didn’t want her to be sad, but I wanted him to show up for her. But, he showed up for me. I didn’t know I needed it, but it was perfect. 

Thank you, Dad! It’s nice to know you still have my back. Even in heaven ❤️

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