A while back I asked if any of you had a gift story that had to do with dads that is close to your heart. When Aedriel sent this one, I got pretty teary. In fact, you might want to have a tissue within quick reach.
Father’s day can be bittersweet sometimes, for many different reasons. But I thought Aeriel’s story might be a nice way to pay tribute to the men who are great fathers, the men who we love and adore and miss.
“My Dad whom I was very close to died 5 years ago from melanoma. As an avid fly fisherman/outdoorsman, search and rescue volunteer, runner he was always diligent about using sunscreen so it was a shock to us all when he was diagnosed and died only a couple months later. I miss him dearly.
At his grave site there was a brick with a silver plaque that simply stated D DIXON with the plot number. Too much time passed with this brick and by the time we arranged for a gravestone I was suddenly going to miss the brick. I asked my step-mom for the brick when it was going to be replaced. She was out of town when the gravestone was put in and the brick was apparently thrown away. I was so upset about this. This simple brick was more my Dad than the gold-lettered gravestone.
My husband, Matt, never met my Dad and he’s always been amazing about listening to my stories about him or wiping my tears when my heart aches. Two Christmases ago we agreed to give gifts to each other that didn’t cost anything…or cost very little. He was so excited about his gift to me. I opened the most precious gift anyone has ever given to me that Christmas.
It was a brick identical to the one that was thrown out. Apparently Matt was going to buy a brick and have a metal plate made to resemble the original. When he went to the cemetery to find out what was on it the man that makes the bricks left Matt waiting there and came walking out with a duplicate brick. He handed it to Matt and told him it was free.
We now have the brick under a pinon tree and that’s my little area to think about my Dad. Matt has lovingly planted flowers under the tree to make it a bit of a Dad sanctuary. ;)
My Dad’s name was David. And I now have my own little David. I see my dad’s eyes in my David every day and that helps me know that he is with me.”
It would be great to add a few more stories to this series that have to do with dads. If you have something that you think might work, I’d love to hear it, you can send me a quick email and share your story.