father daughter lasagna suppers

This is one of the first things I thought about this morning when I was getting ready to take the kids to school and start my day today, November 23rd, 2009. When I was young, a neighboring town's school soccer program put on a fund raising lasagna supper once a year. Now, I know my mother likes lasagna, but this was something she didn't attend. Just Daddy and I went. We did this for many years. Just father & daughter and all you can eat anything makes for perfect together time.



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I never looked through Dad's cell phone pictures until after he died. By then, the phone contract was cancelled, so all I could do was take pictures of the screen's images. They don't look very good, but you can get an idea of the image. It's a picture of me with the twins that no one else took. I wasn't even aware that he took it, so it is truly a moment captured and not one staged or posed for. I just thought it was so neat that he saw the moment, took the photo and then kept that image on his phone for 3 years after that. There were shots of all the grandkids on there as well as camp and even some friends of his. It's hard to see, but it is me on the hospital bed with the twins in front of me. You can kind of see their perfect bald heads.

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When we moved into this house, there were 2 little quotes cut from a magazine and taped inside my kitchen cabinet right by the kitchen sink. It's the one we happen to have put plates in, so I open it approximately 968 times a day. One quote is from Gandhi and the other is attributed to Henry James. I never removed them because I figured it was bad karma to take down a Gandhi quote. Plus, in the back of my mind was, "we'll move in 2 years, I'll leave that for the next owner." The Gandhi quote isn't anything that truly speaks to me, but the Henry James one is one I have quoted to friends in times of loss and pain and I think I'll post it here today.


Sorrow comes in great waves... but it rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us, it leaves us. And we know that if it is strong, we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain.




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It cannot possibly have been a full year already said we said goodbye to my father too soon. The twins still know him right away in photos, but they don't ask where he is. They talk to going to "Grammie's house" without asking me why Grampie isn't there. We say things all the time like, "Carl is just like Grampie" (too numerous to list, but even just the other day, Carl walked by Angus and said, "Hello Cat." exactly like Dad used to do. We're waiting for him to one day ask us, "Does your face hurt?") or "Wow, Gretchen gets that from Grampie" (especially how she gets super grumpy when she is hungry. And her love of chocolate milk. or how she sits with her legs on top of each other instead of crossing them and having the feet underneath.) I work hard to tell the stories of Grampie sitting on the floor and playing music instruments with them one Christmas or Grampie visiting when they were babies and just sitting in the kitchen holding one or the other and babbling to them, or the time that we drove to Kenny's on Grampie's birthday to surprise him and join in the party (pictured below) so I can keep those memories alive in their heads.

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If you are interested in reading the guest book from the obituary, it is only going to be visible online until tomorrow according to the newspaper. It's in the main newspaper from Mom's area. I try to keep some things anonymous online, so if you are interested in reading, then you will most likely know which newspaper to look up.

I miss you, Daddy! And we all love you very much!