last night as i was driving home from dropping eric off at the airport, for hopefully his last trip of the season, the girls were all sound asleep in the back seat. a few miles before home a deer was standing in the road. this is not uncommon. i quickly slowed. it jumped to the side and ran along with us for a spell. instantly my mind was filled with 'what if's ' and 'remember when's' and i so so so missed my dad. it has almost been 5 years since he passed on. it is strange the things that make you miss and feel sad about the lives that have gone on before us. a deer standing in the road. that hasn't caused me those same feelings before, what do i think about that? well, seems i have said to a couple people just this week, i often can't seem to put my thoughts into words verbal or written....that is the case here. when i think about my car having trouble, i don't know who i would call, that would have been a call made to my dad. or when i want to share a silly thing one of the girls said, often, only my dad is who i would want to share that with. so many more. he was a neat guy. loving, sensitive, strong, clever, witty...the list goes on. a few months back i found the dirty dozen list and started implementing that. we try to buy organic, but sometimes we just can't afford the extra cost. i used to have a bumper sticker on my car that said 'support organic farmers'.....that was years ago. when i moved from california back to minnesota with my new husband, that sticker was a bit controversial. my dad was a chemical fertilizer distributor. we'd play in the rainbow puddles out at the 'fertilizer plant' [what we called his work place] growing up. slide down the mounds of dry chemical like they were snow piles or sand dunes. imagine. just imagine......that sticker on the auto of the fertilizer guy daughter's car. and note, it was a small town, 600 people max....i know it was smaller. everyone knows everyone. i haven't decided if i would do that differently or not. i think my dad died early because of his business profession. i wish he had eaten organic most of his days, not only in the end. i wish he hadn't been surrounded by chemicals his entire adult life or me, my entire childhood. i wish the idea of bartering and trade, community and supporting one another worked here and now stronger, more necessary. i think he'd still be here. though i am so thankful for the way i was raised, where i was raised, how i was raised, values, opportunities, because of his profession. the fresh picked corn from a customers field shared with my dad as a payment, the pool in the back yard,the green beans from the neighbors garden, fun vacations, trips to the city.....i would trade it all to have him here. i'm not upset that he chose that job, it was passed down from his dad. who knew? it was those early days, the excitement of crops lasting longer, growing stronger, bigger, better....that was so good. that was financially stable. but it simply wasn't good in my opinion now. my dad's gone and i miss him and i need something to blame it on. don't you think that's okay. that's not really a question. i'm just sayin'. is this all too personal? i don't think so. you don't need to read this, weird stranger that i don't know. this is for me to remember days, feelings, thoughts, moments, makings. my friends, people who want to know me, get to know me better. my family. though, i am pretty sure none of my family look at this. oh well. this is a big part of who i am. my thoughts i can't get down. i am not a good writer, i am not good with words, i am a thinker who usually doesn't share my thoughts. not the thoughts that really really matter to me. those ones that i can't form words for they are so important. my dad, the way we treat our bodies, health, the earth, destruction, terrorism, family, faith. i simply don't know where to start. but there, i guess i did start. the deer, last night standing in the road, helped me start. today we are going to go buy some organic eggs, organic cocoa powder, bananas, and organic apples. we will talk about starting our own organic container garden as we thumb through some library books and discuss what we would want to grow. i will share with them stories of my childhood that included husking fresh corn with my dad, planting flowers, and my dad's dry, dirt stained hands that would rub my head as i would fall sleep in his arms listening to his strong, gentle, sweet voice sing 'you are my sunshine'.