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This is US

Sometimes the "pain of remembering" is just way too overwhelming...  

I opted out of the traditional Father's Day this year.

I did not make my annual graveside visit.

I did not make a social media post honoring my dad.

I did not celebrate the legacy seeds that he deposited on the inside of me.

I did not share the memories.

Sunday, June 21st popped up (on me) like spam with a virus attached--my dad was not physically present!

So, I could either cram my face with carbs, cry my eyeballs out, or retreat to the confines of my bed.

Somehow, I  mustered up enough strength to step out of the pain and into a garment of praise.

I met my responsibility with accountability, because I had "eyes on me."

My grandson was starting to show signs of distress, due to the overwhelming nature of surrounding events and I could not allow my grief to take root in his heart.

I knew dad would want me to take care of him...

to be bold,
courageous,
and loving.

to smile the frowns away,
to paint the skies with rainbows,
and to nurture the king in him.

I also knew that "our dad" would want me to make space for new memories.

I am so grateful for our father's undying love and God's continuous grace.

I am blessed with an amazing "tribe of family" that

 translate my love language,
comprehend my silence,
and offer me space to grow.

Even with a lump of sorrow in my throat, I offer a heartfelt  "Happy Father's Day" to the memories of yesterday and a "Happy Father's Day" to the memories underway.

This is U-S...  

God's love dipped in the "Powell blood".      
Happy Father's Day to my amazing brother.



Happy Father's Day to our dad.

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