It’s just a rose.
Old, dried out, color all but gone.
It was taken from a Southampton County grave this day eight years ago, on a mild sunny day in God’s country.
For all the time since, it has rested on a night stand next to its current owner’s bed
It was taken after church and a Navy unit honored the man who put 21 years into the military and just as many working Civil Service.
His blood always ran West Virginia, but he joined the Navy so he didn’t have to spend his life in the coal mines of the hollows near Beckley.
He shared his love for many things, especially fishing. Even though his approach to the sport often was primitive, he loved it none the less.
His thrill showed on his face when his son landed a bluegill or flounder – its size of no matter as he could tell the hook of the future had been set.
He was, without a doubt, one of the most special people the boy would know. To this day, his son’s wife sits at the unchallenged very top of an extremely long list of those who have come to know one or the other.
The original owner of this weathered old rose went to sit at the side of The Lord on this day eight years ago.
He joined Ellen’s dad, who had passed just 20 days prior.
The two undoubtedly are sharing the waters and woods for what they are meant to be – God’s World – where they can catch all the fish they want and watch a deer walk by as they wait for more marvels.
When a bright red cardinal pays us a visit, we know that it is one of our fathers checking in and saying hello.
That man was Lee A. Tolliver. He was my dad.
He taught me the things – good or bad – that have made me who I am today.
Standing atop of the lessons are treating people well, sharing a goofy old-man joke with those he didn’t know, and a love of fishing that has been rewarded with nice catches and the true meaning of the sport.
Ellen and I were trying our best to get home from Sint Maarten (St. Martin) at dad’s second wife’s urges.
But there were no flights, and when we arrived in the United States, a phone call informed me that he had passed.
Sitting beside him with his hand in mine as he went to higher pastures was no longer an option – something that bothers me to this day.
Especially this day.
To me, it is all way too regrettable, but he’s told me often since that he was with me every step of the way and continue to do so. I know in my gut and heart that Ellen’s dad sees it all the same way.
So do what you always did, dad – take care of everyone, friend or not, make them laugh at your often horrible jokes, and know you are always going to be sorely missed.
A nightly look at this old rose sure helps.
To read more of my work, go to leetolliveroutdoors.com
