Have I ever mentioned that I live close to the railroad tracks? Well, not THAT close. But I hear the train going by at all hours of the day and night, and now that I’m used to it, I find it a comforting sound. When that lonesome whistle blows, distant and plaintive in the dark, I always think of a certain old friend, gone now. It’s like a “Hello”.
I’ve reached that place in my life where the “good-byes” are happening more frequently–and I sure miss my dad. If he were here, he’d say, “Don’t be a sad-sack, Lindy.” He… Read More »