As I drove to work this morning, the fog lie so close to the ground that there was maybe a quarter of a mile of visibility. The dark pavement was all that broke up the expanse of the vineyards on either side of the road where they were a yellow color that seemed to have a dull glow, speckled with rust colored leaves.
It became sadly ironic to me how much the weather represented how I felt. It was cold outside. The fog eerily resembled the sadness that had taken over the days in the recent past since the day he passed.
As I drove, I began to climb the hill to work. I realized how hard my car was working to get up. It was straining, making a sort of humming sound as it made its way up, up and up a seemingly neverending slope. As the road finally plateaued, I noticed the seats were finally warm. I am still waiting for this feeling to come around.
Everyday I come to work and see the sadness. This is a family. Not only are Norman's children there, so are all the people who thought of him as family. People who have known and loved him for years. In the quiet of the day I look around and see the tears just behind the eyes of everyone around me. When I walk by the pictures in the hall of the family when the winery and they were all young, it brings it all home.
This is home. This is my second home. I love everyone here like family; so did Norman, and they loved him. I will always remember his quiet humor and the stories about his relentless dancing at every opportunity.
While it was known for 4 years that he was sick, it is still hard to find solace in the fact that he is no longer struggling day in and day out. I just hope that as they days pass, the struggle to move on gets easier -- for his entire family; his wife, all of his children, grandchildren, his sister, and everyone in the extended ZD 'family'.
It truly is a gloomy day -- this Halloween.
It became sadly ironic to me how much the weather represented how I felt. It was cold outside. The fog eerily resembled the sadness that had taken over the days in the recent past since the day he passed.
As I drove, I began to climb the hill to work. I realized how hard my car was working to get up. It was straining, making a sort of humming sound as it made its way up, up and up a seemingly neverending slope. As the road finally plateaued, I noticed the seats were finally warm. I am still waiting for this feeling to come around.
Everyday I come to work and see the sadness. This is a family. Not only are Norman's children there, so are all the people who thought of him as family. People who have known and loved him for years. In the quiet of the day I look around and see the tears just behind the eyes of everyone around me. When I walk by the pictures in the hall of the family when the winery and they were all young, it brings it all home.
This is home. This is my second home. I love everyone here like family; so did Norman, and they loved him. I will always remember his quiet humor and the stories about his relentless dancing at every opportunity.
While it was known for 4 years that he was sick, it is still hard to find solace in the fact that he is no longer struggling day in and day out. I just hope that as they days pass, the struggle to move on gets easier -- for his entire family; his wife, all of his children, grandchildren, his sister, and everyone in the extended ZD 'family'.
It truly is a gloomy day -- this Halloween.
