A walk down memory lane

My father passed away when I was 6 years old. This left me with a dearth of real memories. Usually they fade in and out with flashes of truths woven with moments of either vanishing clarity or literal falsehoods. However, on occassion, I come across the concrete ones; the kind I will carry with me until the day I pass on. These are so few and far between that I can likely count them on one hand. This rarity makes them precious. It also makes me further embrace the situations in life that trigger these slight reminders of a man I have so longed to know. Tonight, a purely insignificant 10 seconds brought about possibly my favorite memory of my dad. I believe I have told it on here before, but to quickly recount it - at a time when cancer had stolen most of my father's energy, he would still occasionally attempt to meet me at the bus stop. He couldn't walk the whole distance, but I can vividly remember him kneeling on a knee, waiting for me half way. Tonight, Meggan was helping Mia practice walking with her walker. So, she pointed her in my direction and I got down on a knee and waited for her. As she walked toward me, that snapshot of my dad popped into focus, only I was him and she was me. I have been a father for closing in on a year. And, I have been a son for thirty. Yet, tonight, was the first night I felt like both at the same time.