Dear John...

I really miss being able to talk to you, dad.

So much has been happening in our little family and extended family--sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Your passing away has saved you the heartache you would be feeling right now surrounding these events--and for that, I am thankful. It is a blessing that everything was good and in its right place when you left this earth.

However, it seems that nothing has been right in me since you have left.
It's hard.
Will it always be this hard?

I'm having baby number 3 and you won't see it.
You won't hold it.
I remember when pumpkin was born and you held her for so long.
You cried when you saw her.
She looked like you.
She was a part of you and your story.

She still loves you and talks about you.
She tells bubby about you.

The other day we were going to the store and bubby didn't want to use the bathroom.
and pumpkin said to him
" you won't remember this, but Papa always said to use the bathroom before leave the house."

well. He did.
Not because mommy said so...
but because the Papa he didn't really know, had said it to his big sissy.

These are the little things that make me cry.
Oh well, life does go on.
And you're still a part of ours.

Love,
Me.

Dear John...

Two years ago today...
You are loved, you are spoken of often, your advice still taken, your memories remembered.
You are missed.

Love your daughter.

Dear John...

Do you remember that Christmas?

The one when money was tight for you and mom...

Life had taken ahold of things for a bit and you made lots of sacrifices for us all.

That began your attitude of giving. You were a giver dad.

Not a giver of things

--although you gave to us anything we needed before you gave to yourself.

Your answer was the same every year at Christmas

" I don't want you to buy me anything!"

Of course, we did.

But you gave of your time. You gave of your gifts--your talents.

Your creativity in the kitchen and willingness to serve

--well, anyone who knew you won't forget soon.

We loved those late night shrimp bowls

or the filing cabinet filled with chips and licorice that you kept stocked with Peanut M& M's for mom (her favourite).

** note: most people keep files or paper in their filing cabinets but my parents had a filing cabinet seriously full of junk food.

No really--it's true.

If dad could have afforded a second microwave, he would have put it on top and then not even had to go upstairs to microwave his popcorn :0)

So dad, who could blame me when I wanted to give you your hearts desire one Christmas?

I knew you wanted one.

They were all the rage.

So I saved.

I worked on an extra project and made enough to buy it and some extras.

I wanted to give it to you more than anything.

Not for the look on your face.

Not even for the sheer joy of giving

--but because you deserved it.

And you opened that Black and Decker Breadmaker

and you cried.

Tears of JOY!

I loved you dad and wanted you to know in a way that was more than a hug or a kiss.

In a way that showed I sacrificed for you like you did for us.

You were worth it. And I love you.

Merry Christmas.

Love,

Your Favourite

(and only) Daughter

Dear John...

It's coming on Christmas...

they're cutting down trees...

I love Joni Mitchell's song the River.

Her voice reminds me of you dad.

I don't know if it's the era she sang in or the words, but it's so calm.

so soothing.

I used to love it when you would sing to us each night.

After doing our prayers and before you gave us each a kiss.

This song means more to me this Christmas than it has in past years.

I'm missing you, for starters.

And life,

well.

It's in a bit of turmoil.

Last Christmas we didn't have you for the first time.

This Christmas someone else will also be missing the festivities.

You were a devoted father, husband and friend.

May we all remember and learn before our lives take a hard right.

Love you dad,

Missing you,

your daughter.

Dear John...

BRRR....

it's cold outside.

I was walking to Curves this morning with my hood up over my head,

my hands dangling inside my sleeves

(dang! I'm going to have to find my gloves!),

and my zipper zipped right up under my chin.

I wasn't wearing any socks however,

and it was breeeezy!

I instantly thought of you.

My desire to avoid socks as long as possible.

And your desire to wear shorts into the dead of winter.

I had always wondered whether you really weren't cold.

I mean, dad, come on.

Shorts in the middle of winter seemed pretty silly.

Remember when you picked me up at Jenna's for the first time wearing your shorts?

Her family thought you were so funny!

They fell in love with you instantly...

how could they not?

Everyone always did.

You had a magnetic force that was just so nutty, people couldn't help but love you.

Well dad, here's to shorts in the winter.

After my walk this morning--sans socks-- I don't think I'm going to be trying it anytime soon :)

Love,

Your Daughter

Dear John: Upcycled Poppy Tutorial

My father was an Army Brat...

His stepfather was in the Army and they moved around alot in his formidable years.

My father had lots of stories.

My Papa had lots of stories.

My mother's father was in the Army also.

She too was an Army Brat.

My Grandpa lives close to us now.

He visits us and often brings books or photos of the Army life.

Last time he visited, Pumpkin kept asking him,
"who's that?"

"are they still your friend?"

Most often his answer was "no" because they died "a long time ago".

Fighting for the freedom of our Country.

----------------------------------------------------------

If you don't wear a poppy on November 11th

why not?

Is it because you forget?

Often I have.

But not last year and never again.

I made this poppy from an

old red t-shirt.

Super easy, super quick and fashionable way to

Remember...Lest We Forget...

-------------------------------------------------------

Cut out 2 flower shaped patterns.

I free handed but if you want to you can use the pattern pieces here

(just don't cut down the dotted lines)

you will need 6 large flowers
and 3 small flowers
=9 layers in total
I just fold my t-shirt over a bunch of times and then cut them all out at once...
because I'm lazy...
I mean efficient!
the ones on the bottom of your stack do get a bit wonky like this one,
but I just go back and shape them up.
this is not an exact science.

layer all 6 large flowers just off centre from one another so that the petals over lap...
then add the top 3 small flower layers the same way, consistently turn the petals so they are offset.
Grab a button of your choice, black and brown are my preference.

I also like a larger sized middle in my poppy so I choose a large button.
(sorry I forgot to take a pic)

Sew the button on through all the layers and finish off at the back.
No need for neatness as you're going to cover up your handiwork with a pin.

Cut a small rectangle from the remaining shirt scraps and glue on your pin back.

(make sure to secure the pin more to the top than the middle so it won't buckle under the weight of the button and fabric--in other words, if you centre the pin your poppy will always fall forward...attach it a little higher)

Cover it nicely with the scrap, leaving the pin open.

Now this is what takes your poppy from an old t-shirt to November 11th

the secret is in the s-t-r-e-t-c-h!

That's right, on ever layer pull and stretch that poppy until it's in the curly/frilly

poppy that you're going for.

Done!

Some pictures of some I made last year for family and friends.

Now you're ready for that moment of silence

on November 11th ...

to remember not only those that died but for those that fight to protect us daily.

Dear John...

Do you remember a time long ago when witches flew and dragons breathed fire?
When children squealed and skipped?
When the whole street would light up with pumpkin globes?
When you used to take your flashlight and my hand and take me house to house?

Trick or Treat!



I remember being a bunny and you straightened my ears.

I remember complaining my candy was too heavy and you carried my jack o lantern bucket up and down the paths to our neighbour's houses.



I remember mom staying home with the neighbour moms and the husbands taking the kids on their adventures.



I remember you allowing us a piece of candy every 10 houses and after every bite you would smile and say "don't tell mom"--even though you know mom knew you were a softy.



How diligently you would inspect our candy and sometimes tell us that something wasn't safe and then pop it into your own mouth (ahem... like who ate all my coffee crip bars?)



Do you remember when my brother was a sandwich and no one could walk beside him on the sidewalk because he was too big?

You walked on the road so he wouldn't feel lonely and made sure he could make it to all the doors.


Those were happy times, eh dad?
Happy times.

Love
your daughter.

"Dear John"

This is post 101 for me here in my little world O' Blog...

Why no fanfare for my 100th post?

Simply....

I'm a bit deflated.

Not because I don't love blogging or reading others blogs

I do!

mean hundreds of hours absorbing and sharing ideas have not been wasted!

no...

it's gotten me off my tush, out of my rutt and into a newer and better me for the most part.

but I've been feeling that I'm not so sure what this road I'm on is for...

I mean, what kind of blog do I have?

Is it crafty?

no. not enough anyway.

Is it a way to reach my family that lives miles away?

not really. I don't post pics of my kids or share the innermost workings of my family.

I guess this is the space where I share my thoughts.

The thoughts for me.

What I love, hate and need.

This blog originally started as a bit of therapy.

To help me overcome my dad's death.

And most of the time it is.

But lately, it just reminds me that he's not here and I'm not celebrating his life in print.

I'm avoiding his death and the feelings that hurt.

so no more.

Every Monday I will write my father a letter.

A "Dear John" letter

--apt since his name was John.

And trust me, they may be sad.

I still cry alot.

but there are happy things I'd like to share too.

And I will.

Thanks for listening....

Dear John

Dear DAD,

It's been awhile since you've left us and I miss you terribly.

I know you wouldn't want me to spend time missing you

but I can't help it.

Especially when you are there in my face everyday;

in one way or another.

Remember the blanket I made for you

when you were cold 3 Christmas's ago?

The one made out of felted wool sweaters?

That's right,

the grey one.

Your favourite "colour"

(because you were colour blind LOL!)

Well I was going to wash it.

The kids love sitting under it to watch their favourite movies.

(Mostly the ones you bought for Pumpkin.)

And well this week they had popcorn as a snack;

(they love their popcorn--almost as much as you did!)

And it made quite a mess on the blanket.

And then the dog laid on it when we watched a movie

the other night.

And she's shedding.

So...

Well, I went to bring it upstairs and Pumpkin wouldn't let me wash it.

She refused to.

I asked her why?

"Because it smells like Papa! Don't wash him away, Mom."

Even though the blanket has been washed numerous

times since Mom gave it back to me...

I didn't wash it.

I guess we all miss you.

Love,

your favourite (only) daughter