Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Hi everyone. Feel free to comment on this post if you have a memory to share. I'd like to take some of them and set them as posts, so don't be surprised if that happens to yours.

And just to get us all started I want to tell you a story a neighbour of Dad's told me the other day when I ran into him at Dairy Queen...

One day Russell, Dad's neighbour, was in his backyard doing some gardening when he felt something hit him on the back. He looked around, but all he saw was his wife on their deck not paying any attention to him. He shrugged and went back to his weeding, when he felt something skim his shoulder. He looked up again, and this time yelled at his wife, "What are you doing???" She acted confused, and asked him what he meant?

"What are you throwing at me?" he said.

"Nothing! What are you talking about?"

Russell was getting pretty frustrated by this point, and was just about to tell his wife off when he heard laughter from two yards away.

My dad was outside on his deck, lofting crab apples, and very much enjoying the show.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Your Work on Earth

Hi Dadaloo. I called your work again today. This time I talked to Brenda, not just some guy who never even knew you. She thinks your stuff may all still be there hanging on the walls in your office.

As soon as I heard her voice I burst into tears. Poor Brenda. I couldn't even explain why. Maybe because it was nice to hear the voice of someone who knew you and loved you too, because I remember calling you at work and talking to her, because she said they had all just been talking about you this week, because she asked about the boys and it reminded me of how proud you were of them and how many stories you made them listen to about them, because I know that you still had it in your head that you were going to go back to work there.

Or maybe because it reminded me that you were here. You were here and now you're not and I miss you so bad. And because if I go down there to get your stuff I know the pictures of the boys will be of them so young, and there won't be any of Abbey and Hannah. Or Nathaniel. And it hurts that you've missed so much already.

Probably because of all of those things all at once. But now I can't stop crying.

It still seems like a huge mistake that you're not here with us. Working for a living. Coming home with crazy stories about something the new guy did. And putting up new pictures of your grandkids in your office at the grain terminal.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011


I really thought we'd bring you home Dad. I had this scared feeling all the time that this might be the last... Time at our house, time you drove away... All kinds of times. But I always told myself I was being silly, that we'd bring you home from Seattle. At least that.

And it bothers me so much that we didn't. I feel like somehow we let you down. I know you wanted to come home so badly. I know you stayed and fought for us. But I remember you crying at the hospital the day before you died when we talked about you coming home. And I know you'd tell me that I'm being ridiculous, feeling bad that you didn't get to come home one last time, when you're home forever now. It bothers me so much though.

All of that time bothers me, the time after you left for Seattle. It bothers me that sometimes I cut short our phone calls because I couldn't think of anything to say. And it bothers me that I didn't come out earlier because I didn't have enough money to do two trips. It bothers me that I didn't bring Ben, because I know you wanted to see him. It bothers me SO MUCH that Mom and I went grocery shopping the night I got to Seattle. I wasted that first day we got there, and after that you were so sick that I couldn't really talk to you. I want all that time back.

And I want to be able to bring you home. Even though your body came home I feel like we left you behind in Seattle. I wish I could go back there and get you. I want you back so badly.

I miss you. I want my dad.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Birthday Wishes

It's your birthday. It makes me think of all your other birthdays.

The ones you had when you were just a little guy, excited to be another year older. The first ones you had with Mom, before all of us started coming along. The ones when we were bratty teenagers and didn't even remember. The ones when we were slightly less bratty adults, and
you were healthy and we all knew there were tons more ahead of us, and we got you silly cards. The one when you turned the big five oh, and we surprised you with a great big party in the "forest".
Look how young and tall you look! (Stupid cancer.)

And then the ones when you were sick, and we hated to think it, but it was always there in the backs of our minds, "This might be the last."
It makes me sad that you never finished watching your last birthday present. Which is lame, I know, because of all the things you didn't get to finish... Videos are lame. But I remember that birthday, and I wasn't there, but the rest of you all went out for supper, and Noah ate lots of spaghetti I'm told.

And I miss you so much.
I miss taking for granted that you would always be there. Oh man, I miss that. And I miss not staring at your brothers and wondering how I could kidnap them and brainwash them to think that they are my kids' grampas. And I miss hugging you. I would give anything for a hug from you, I think about it all the time, and I shouldn't, because it opens everything up again and turns a healing scar into a gaping wound.

And right now, when I'm not having a very good day, I miss being able to call you or see you and somehow you make it feel better, usually by being a bit of a brat. I miss that.

Today for your birthday, I wish Gramma could make you some chicken noodle soup for lunch and you would call me and slurp it on the phone to bug me. And then you would go out for dinner and I would call you and say I wish I was there, and you would brag about how much time you are spending holding Nathaniel because I'm not there to fight over him with you. (Baby hog.) And then you'd call me from Aunty Susan's hot tub to brag some more, and I'd laugh and hang up on you.

Because, after all, I'd probably talk to you tomorrow when I called Mom to talk about whatever it is Mom and I talk about.
(Farm Town probably.)

I'm sure you're having a great birthday, and I'm sure if you could, you'd call me from heaven and brag about the noodles and cake Mavis made for you, and maybe eat a garden cucumber really loudly to rub it in that it's winter here and you can have cucumbers fresh from the garden whenever you want...

But even thinking of all that, I can't help but wish you were here, so that I could tell you, even just over the phone, "Happy birthday Dad. I love you all day, all night, all day, all night, all day, all night... A lot."

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Dear Dad

Another new year and I think of you all the time. Miss you so much.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Remembrance Day

Today Angela and I observed remembrance Day. Not only did we remember those who gave so much to our country in war but we most of all remembered you, the one who gave us so much in life. As well as that, we remembered the trenches. We were there with you in that horrible war that took you away from us. All of us who loved you so much each have memories of that battle that we fought right along side of you. Each of us have scars and wounds that we will have for the rest of our days, yet here we are, we live on but we will never forget.

You can see our reflections as if they have been etched into the stone as if we had become a part of the epitaph. In truth we are. We were such a part of who you were just as you were such a part of who we are. In this way you will always be remembered. You will always be a part of who were are. Time itself can not erase this. You will always be remembered by us and when we are gone and time has removed all of us who remember you, we will be with you.

O God, Our Help In Ages Past
Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast and our eternal home.

Before the hills in order stood or earth received her frame,
from everlasting thou art God, to endless years the same.

A thousand ages in Thy sight are like an evening gone,
short as the watch that ends the night before the rising sun.

Time like an ever rolling stream bears all its sons away,
they fly forgotten as a dream dies at the op'ning day.

O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,
be Thou our guard while troubles last and our eternal home.


Friday, September 3, 2010

There Is A Hole In My Heart

As September rolls in, I am reminded of you and our last fun days and then the suffering that followed. I am so glad that we had that time together. All that is left are the memories and this big gaping hole. I miss you so much it hurts.