Amos Rents

Repost from Russisms.com original date was May27 2009,

I keep having versions of this dream where we are cleaning out the main Amos Rents building. The dream is dark. There are shadows, and people I don't know. Or I am alone. Sometimes looking for my dad. And of course he is not there. In one, he calls me on the phone. And I cry so hard. He has always been at Amos Rents. The last dream was about the old stuff Gramps used to collect and had stashed. I kept finding all these treasures, but not really what I was looking for. Not my dad. Not Gramps. After one dream it was so real, I had to go sit outside the gate. I had to be there, where they had spent so much time, and energy. Were some dreams had come true. They had worked so hard to make some dreams come true. I was always amazed at how much my dad could build. How did he know what went together. How much of that was what really was him, his dream. Just like he left us behind, he left many moving legacy- someone is still enjoying what he built in that messy garage out back. God, if the only way I can be back there with him, is in dreams, don't let them stop. I miss my dad so much. It hurts so bad. And it might get worse as July comes. But then July will go too, and I will move farther away from that day. That week. We noticed that the ground in the cemetery has grown over, the gashes and scars of the grass have grown over, the divits filled in. I wish my life was like that. My heart. When will the gashes fill in? Will I walk through my dreams looking for my dad for 50 more years or more until he is there? I was trying so hard to remember the last time I hugged him. Or that he had put a warm hand on me. I couldn't do it! It wasn't that long ago. I looked up Amos Rents online today, just to see what is still floating around out there. All that is left of Amos Rents are some old adds on websites, some menchioning in online magazine articles and an empty building and lot. All that is left of my dad are the old pictures, the things he had collected over his life, and the clothes I still can't bear to look at because I need the smell of him to last longer. Is that will be left of me? Will someone miss me as much as I miss him, need me as much as I need him? I cried so hard the day we broke down in California because as much as he wouldn't have been there to fix it, he wasn't there to just ask, am I makin the right decision? What, dad, do you think is wrong? I know he is happy, and that he misses me. I know he understands why he is gone, why he can't be here. I know one day i will understand too. I know people have to die. That life goes on. I didn't think it would hurt this much still, this far out. That i could still cry so much. I wont wish that i had one more day, or one more hour, or even one more minute because i know he is here. I just wish I could remember the last time he said I love you, that i said it back...The last time he touched me. I still wish I had said goodbye that day before I left for work. That I had looked him in the eye. That I hadn't been too busy. But I am glad I always believed in him. That I always thought he was wonderful, talented and funny. I am glad I stood up for him, and protected him from what I could. I am honored he asked me to write his resume when he needed to find a new job after Amos Rents closed. I am glad he talked to me a little, and I gave him the benefit of doubt when others couldn't. That I tried to understand why he was the way he was. There was so much, so much he wanted to do. Amos Rents was all part of that. Amos and Amos Rents are gone too. It hurts to hear a small tractor working, go figure, and the smell of oil