Change

  I spent the weekend back home, with family. We had an anniversary party for my husbands parents, and that was fun. I had not seen any of his family in months. We all ate too much, and had a lot of fun playing with the one and only grandchild in the family. I hope we don't ruin him before his baby brother/sister gets here.

 We also had a garage sale at my dads house. My brothers and sisters in law have worked very hard, getting his house ready to sell, and I appreciate it, but it makes me very sad.
 It's like my life there, is over. I don't have a home to go to, and no one to call and tell I've made it back safely. They are having blizzard like weather there today, and I have picked up my phone a dozen times, to call Dad and see how he is.

 I brought my mom's china hutch home with me. I plan to refinish it, so we'll see how that goes. Dad wanted me to take it several years ago, but I didn't feel good about taking Mom's things from the house, while he was still living. In hindsight, it might have been easier.
 My brother, Greg called to make sure we made it home ok, last night. That helped more than he will ever know. It made me feel like I still had a family.

 I have just started a new blog. Check out Sand Lot Philosophy. It's about baseball and I'll probably say some things I shouldn't, so it should be fun. Hope you enjoy it.

 Oh, I will still be posting here, also.

Wolrds Greatest Dad

 We buried my father a week ago, today. We had fair weather, for February and there was a nice turnout. Memories were shared, kind words spoken, music he would have liked, then Taps played with a twenty one gun salute, and it was over. I couldn't help thinking, the one thing I had feared since childhood, finally was a reality. Also, I thought my sweet, almost ninety year old father, would have wanted his gray hair covered with Grecian Formula before so many people came to see him. I take after my father.

 I know I have the rest of my life to miss him, so it's pointless to do it all today. But I can't stop thinking about him. I dreamed I was at his house, with my brothers, trying to decide what to do with all his stuff. I looked up and saw him walk out of the house with his fishing pole. I felt kind of good about that.

  The memories I have are not likely to mean much to others, but that's OK.
 When I was a child, he was the biggest, strongest man in the world. He worked hard and came in after dark most evenings. He stood at the sink, scrubbing from his fingertips to elbows, the grease from a days labor. Next, he took off his cap and scrubbed it in the same manner. Finally, he sat, exhausted, at the dinner table, long after everyone else had eaten.

Sometimes, when he had to eat out in the field, he bought sandwich makings and cookies at a grocery/gas station deli. There were a lot of those back then. This is where we "ate out" while traveling on vacation. Kids today will never know how good a Coke, or RC Cola taste, from a glass bottle. Anyway, he brought the leftover cookies to us, and they were terrible, old man cookies, but we fought over them.
 I loved to watch him take batting practice with my brothers or our dog, Blackie. I bet he could hit a ball to the moon, if Blackie could retrieve it.
 He was the worlds greatest dad, and he had the cap, T shirt and coffee mug to prove it.

Reunited

 Early this morning, I was just waking up, and had a memory, or maybe it was a dream, of my father. My best friend, Ivy, and I had a wreck on a motorcycle just down the street from our house. We were just ten or eleven years old and, yes, we had no business being on a motorcycle. Well, Ivy was hurt pretty badly and her parents were out of town, so my mother was riding with her in the ambulance. I was just a little bruised and shaken. In all the commotion, I looked down the street and saw my father standing at the end of our driveway, arms crossed and looking very upset. I took off running to him. He grabbed me and held me so tight, I thought I would break in two.
 I thought about that for a minute, then went to the kitchen to make coffee. My phone rang. It was my oldest brother calling to tell me Daddy had just left this world.
 I feel so sad and alone right now, I don't know what to do with myself.
 I asked God for one more conversation with Daddy. He told me so many great stories about his childhood. I wanted to hear more.
 I believe God gave me that memory, this morning. Maybe so I could remember being frightened, needing comfort and running into the arms of my father. Maybe so I could see Daddy running into the arms of The Father.
 He is in the Presence. He is with Mom, and Sherry, and that little blond haired girl, Lauren.

 I will love and miss him for the rest of my life.

Diary Of An Attention Deficit Housewife

It was a beautiful morning, so I thought I would have a cup of tea on the patio. I ran water into the tea kettle, and went outside to wait. It looked like a good morning to start getting flower beds ready, so I went to the shed to get a rake.

 I grabbed the rake and gardening gloves, noticing a very sore hangnail on my thumb. I thought I might need to bandage it before putting on, not so clean, gloves. I went in the house to get a Band-aid just as the kettle started to whistle. I quickly poured water over a teabag and left it to steep.

 I then saw the magazine, with the recipe I wanted to make for dinner, and remembered I needed groceries for the meal. I reached in a drawer for pen and pad to make a list and saw a picture of my grandmother. I knew I should put the picture back in the photo album, where it belonged. I opened the album and just as I was getting lost in memories, the clothes dryer dinged.

 I quickly took the towels out of the dryer and dropped them on the sofa, where I could fold them, after I put the wet laundry, from the washer, to the dryer. But first, I needed to check the hamper and see if there was enough dirty laundry for another load.

 I stepped into the bathroom and saw the vanity counter was spotted, so I grabbed some spray cleaner, but needed to find a rag. I looked in the mirror and thought I should put on some make up, so I can run to the grocery store here in just a minute.

 I started to do my face and realized how badly in need I was of a haircut. Where did I put that girls card? I liked the way she did my hair and said I would call her again. Maybe it's in my purse.

 But then, I saw all that loose coin and knew it was making my purse too heavy.  I thought I should clean it out. After all, why should I carry around a purse full of old Walmart receipts? I found a nail file, I had been looking for, set the purse aside, and began filing my nails.

 Oh, but that hangnail hurt. Why hadn't I put a Band-aid on it yet?

 I looked around. After such a busy morning, what did I see? A rake lying in the yard, a pile of towels on the couch, wet clothes in the washer, a bottle of bathroom cleaner on the vanity, an open photo album on the table, a cold cup of tea, and a woman in the mirror, needing a haircut and makeup. I'm exhausted.