• Christmas packages tied up with string
  • Bronze beauty
  • Hoo hoo ho hoo
  • The color of brick
  • Early morning sunrise
  • Getting ready for saturday
  • Dinner
  • A misty walk to wendy's
  • Love, dad
  • Waiting

« out side my window... | Main | wet »

04 December 2008


I was too young to remember him when he passed, but I will never forget the sorrow my Grandmother felt without him in this world. He would have been very proud of all of you.

This is lovely, Steph. I wrote my dad an email this morning, which I never, ever do because I'm still kind of afraid of him and what he thinks of me, but it felt so good to write him. What that has to do with your dad, I don't know... Just sharing, I guess.

What a great notion; a nice closeup, too. My cousin had her mom write down everything before she finally succumbed to breast cancer. My own mother went so quickly; it's good to listen.

it has been almost a year. my dad is almost still here....

Being your Dad's younger sister, I, too, have a lot of memories (and some not so great)of him. Dec. 4th has a lot of good/bad in it, as it was my wedding anniversary day as well as the day of your Dad's accident, so every year when it rolls around is bittersweet. But the good memories and funny ones, were when we were kids he decided to build d a platform on a tree limb outside the chicken coop that was our play house in our back yard. Well, he put a teeny tiny board on the limb, then crawled out onto it, and promptly fell all the way to the ground below. Needless to say, our Dad was not happy with him. Fortunately, he suffered no broken bones from it but I think it dampened his enthusiasm for building a bit. He and Aunt Kay always made me do the dirty work because I was the smallest (in age, not size) and I always had to crawl through the chicken opening to get into the chicken coop. Another one was he had a dog, name I can't recall, that hung onto his pant leg as he walked. I remember him walking from our house over to Aunt Kay's not far away and the dog would be hanging on his leg the entire way. He did not own one pair of pants that was not shredded. That's just a few of my memories of your Dad!

I know what you mean. I miss my Grandmother in the same way. I got to hear so many of her stories, but I'm sure there are some she couldn't tell the young me and I'm sure there are questions the young me never thought to ask. After 16 years, I still miss her so much.

a lovely post steph. life is so precious. xx

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