What’s Really At The End of The Rainbow?
Another Sunday…just like any other Sunday one year after the loss of a father.
Yesterday friends and family gathered for a celebration at the unique (much like the man himself) home my father, BP, had designed and built to live his life out in. Unfortunately, he never moved in. Yet the home is now complete and being enjoyed by his wife, Beth.
It was a gorgeous day to enjoy seeing many friends and sharing memories – and telling "BP’isms." My sister Shelly and I cooked food for all – serving some of BP’s favorites including his home-made hot-sauce recipe, home-made taco shells (both flour and corn cooked in heavy oils! Yummm!), chicken enchiladas, tamales, and guacamole. Hey, it was a free day, right?
We cooked and I only burned myself a few times on the hot oil while turning the taco shells. We successfully overserved nearly all who came by — not the least of all myself, as I am still suffering the overload today! (Ah, give me some strength! Full Strength, that is!)
As we enjoyed the BP style Mexican feast and savored a few "cold ones" we enjoyed a soundtrack of his most memorable music selections. So fitting and moving…
When we finally put a wrap on the day, packed the cars to head home we walked out front of the house to see a rainbow arching overhead. The two last ones standing (as in remaining) Beth (dad’s last wife) and I stood on the driveway and just stared at that rainbow.
You couldn’t help but feel that dad’s energy was near… as we’re left pondering the question: What is truly at the end of the rainbow, the arch of brilliant color we call LIFE.
(photography courtesy of my brother, Bill Phillips)
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