~About once a month(girls you know the week) I turn my lil' ipod to Alan and play"drive" as loud as Daddy's Chrysler speakers will let me. I sing it loud and I cry; lord I really cry.
I know it is cheeserific, but hey It is true.
~Today I turned on Alan, after leaving Burger's 2 year check up, where the doctor I know and trust said 'yes your 2 year old really does need a root canal (or 4)' And I turned on the tears just a little harder cause, It is just not fair . I miss that man so much. I want to call him and be reassured that everything will work out fine, and told what a good mama I really am. (right after he scolds me for nursing a near grown boy going on 2 years) . I am really pissed cause I never got to say goodbye properly(if there is such a thing) and my daddy never got to be Burger's living Pawpaw. Jack never got to meet lil' Jack
~I loved that old ornery bastard, and it hurts like hell that he is gone.
And every month Alan lets me remember through some words that sound alot like something my daddy would have said about his daddy and felt about me. Thanks Mr. Alan Jackson and thank the Lord for Country Music.