Dad

Well, here we are with another Father's Day fixin' to roll around. A few days ago, I sat on my living room floor sifting though pictures and reading things my dad had wrote. He struggled with so many ailments in the last decade or so of his life. More than once his writings mention the care of his wife (my mom) and how he marveled at her patience with him. He endured three (?) back surgeries and open heart surgery and stents and nerve damage and... just so, so many things. He hated all the medicine he took and how it made him feel.

He loved his mom and his brothers and sister. He loved my mom and my brother and me. He loved his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He pretty much loved anyone we brought into his life. To prove that, he made lists of the best days in life and the worst days in life. Family, in one way or another, was tied into every single one of the best days, and the loss of particular family members are included in the worst days. My brother and I moving away from our home state are on that worst days list, as well. It's a hard reality to accept.

I still struggle wrapping my mind around how quickly he left us. If I were to make a worst list, that would most likely take up the top five spots. Even now, I think back on that summer of 2014 when we, as a family, encouraged him to at least try the chemo. I can distinctly remember him asking me what I thought about it. The doctor had given him eighteen months without treatment. I said if it would give him more time, then why not try it? I couldn't bear the thought of him not being in my life. He did try it, and was gone three months later. We should have just let him be.

But, that is that and it's all behind us now. His pain and suffering and worry ended without much fanfare on this side of things, but we know the angels welcomed him home on the other side. I've said it before and I'll say it again... the biggest gift my father left us was knowing, without any doubt, in Whom he had placed his trust. I could ramble on- much to the delight of the theme of this blog, but in doing so I would only be repeating what has been said so many times (and am only repeating it now, I am certain). If you want to read more about my dad and my thoughts on who he was as my father and who I am now without him, just look on the left under Moodiness and find the label that says "dad". That will keep you occupied for a while.

For now, there are many reasons for me to still celebrate Father's Day. My dad's laugh and smile and wit shines brightly through all of us still here. We all carry some mannerism of his in one form or another. He would get the biggest kick out of our family as it is now. So, in a weird sort of way, I guess that's why I wanted to write this. I cannot call him or send him a card or buy him the latest dad t-shirt or gadget, but I can remind myself and others that my dad was right up there with the best of them.

And the top spot of my best list in life.

Don't Blink

If my life were truly a book, this would be where Part III begins.

Our kids, the ones I have written about so much- the ones who have consumed by life and my sleep and my pocketbook, are officially grown. Granted, they've been grown for a while, but now it's like grown-grown. It's such a bittersweet thing- something I would not trade for anything, and yet something that causes me to pause and reflect. The youngest has left the nest.

You see, she got this crazy idea that she was ready to go- much like her older brothers moved on years ago, and all my cooking and laundry-doing could not convince her to stay at home. I walk around a house that is full of moving boxes in her bedroom and her half-eaten ice cream in the freezer and wonder what in the world I am suppose to do now. It's not a sad feeling, just a different one.

I try to grasp how quickly the time flew by. Over twenty-seven years of babies and houses and jobs. First days of school and graduation diplomas. Laughter. Tears. Happiness. Anger. Successes and disappointments. All those things that make a house full of people a home full of love. What an honor it was to raise those children. What a privilege it has been to watch them fall in love.

So here we are. Part III. New beginnings all the way around. I found my way back to this blog because for me, writing is the best therapy. The husband says I should turn her room into an office and finally complete that book or work on that doctorate or make crafty things to sell. I think I should probably start with cleaning the house...

That'll keep me busy long enough to plot my next move.