Dear John...

Re: Parenting Tip #623 from good ol' Dad

Sissy came home from school today and did very well on her spelling test.

I know you are an advocate of good language skills, Dad, and she is doing well in school.

Spelling is sometimes tricky for any kid when they're learning and she prides herself on her ability to sound things out.

You should hear her, dad, she's amazing!

I opened up her spelling test today and there it was--10 out of 10!

PERFECT!

It was a proud parent moment.

But what impressed me more was her bonus word...

knuckle

except she spelled it "knuckl" with no "e"-- because it's silent...but hey she got it!

It was there on the page staring at me.

this great big mountain of the english language and she's mastering it.

Suddenly I could picture you standing in our old kitchen by the stove looking at our schoolwork with so much enthusiasm. BIG smiles and "way to go's!"

and then we'd always hold back the best for last--our most successful piece of work that week.

It wasn't always a 10 out of 10 but to you it may as well have been...every.time.

We'd smile and wait in anticipation as you read the page and then drop it on the counter, slap your hands together and yell "Hallelujah!"

And we'd beam so proud.

It always made me so tingly inside knowing that you saw the hard work and that even though it wasn't perfect, it was a victory!

And you celebrated!!

With that memory fresh in my head I clapped my hands whooped and hollered and ran downstairs to Sissy to exclaim how pleased I was at her test.

And you know, Dad...she STOPPED watching t.v.

yes...stopping watching the screen is a big deal to her...she rarely looks anywhere but at the boob tube when it's on.

AND SHE BEAMED!

I made her day like you made mine.

You were a GREAT dad!

Love your ever loving daughter.

Scrappy Mug Rug Madness!

Remember when I told you about my Mug Rug Swap?

Well I just finished another one and I realized I never actually did show you what I did for the first one back in 2010...

so let's start there... this is the one I made for my partner...

using Make life fabric :)

the back--My fave!

and this is what I received! soooooo spoiled I am!

So fast forward to the beginning of March 2011... This is what I sent to my partner...

She likes vintage and pleats and bright colours. I used a vintage pillow case and added in some brown pleating.

Topped it off with some free motion quilting--first time EVER!!! (thanks to my handsome hubby and my SWEET Janome Horizon sewing machine-score!)

Well, I hit a home run on this one--she loved it!

and then I received the most fabulous mug rug Sweetteamom .

She put so much thought and detail into it! I love the rainbow and she snuck in some of my fave Make Life fabric (the red word fabric) and then the grey cross is to symbolize my dad in that he's always with me in my heart! AWWWWWW!

She totally cared! And I love it!

I kinda don't want to spill coffee on this one :)

Dad always loved a good blonde joke...

My father loved a good joke.

Especially blonde jokes!

They were his favourite.

He, at one point, started collecting them.

I wish he were here so I could share this one with him.

He would have loved it!

So....I'll share it with all of you instead :)

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There is a night flight that has just taken off.
As the stewardesses begin to deliver meal trays an attractive blonde walks up from economy to first class and sits down.

Stewardess: May I see your first class ticket please?

Blonde: I don't have one. I'm blonde, I'm beautiful and I'm flying first class to Houston.

Dumbfounded the stewardess goes to the front cabin to speak with the pilots.
After sharing her story the co-pilot says he'll approach her.

Co-pilot: Ma'am I understand you do not have a first class ticket for this flight...?

Blonde: I'm blonde, I'm beautiful and I'm flying first class to Houston.

Speachless, the co-pilot makes his way back to the cabin and exclaims in exasperation
"She's blonde, she's beautiful and she's flying first class to Houston!"

The head pilot asks the co-pilot to take over and says he'll deal with it.
The, now nosy, stewardesses follow him wide-eyed waiting for a scene.
But the pilot only leans down, and gently whispers something in the blonde's ear.

She immediately stood and retired to her original seat in economy. No questions asked.

The pilot returned to the cabin, stewardesses, bewildered, wagging their tongues behind him...

Stewardess: what did you say to her to make her go back to her seat??

Pilot: Oh. I just told her first class wasn't flying to Houston!

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I love a good blonde joke!!

Happy Father's Day

I wish I could wish my dad a Happy Father's Day,

but I can't.

I do have lots of good memories of him which warm me on days when I feel lonely to talk to him.

And I'm a LOT like him.

in so many ways.

My dad was a ham bone! in a good way!

He was funny and silly and everyone laughed when he was around.

I happen to think I'm just as outgoing as he was

(--except I wear a one piece in the pool)

He LOVED to dance and he was a good dancer!

He and my mom could really dance it up.

Often others would stop dancing just to watch my parents on the dance floor.

my dad used to hold me and dance me around the room

to Kenny Rogers "The Gambler"

When I got older, he'd let me stand on his feet.

I loved dancing with him.

He worked at a hospital where literally it felt like EVERYONE knew who he was.

As a child the most remarkable thing about that to me was

that he cared more and spoke more often

to the "little" people than he did about all the prominent doctors in the world.

He loved the cleaning ladies and cafeteria ladies, the orderlies and his patients.

He chatted them up, knew their names and truly cared about them.

He always remembered little details about them.

I too learned from his example that everyone is important and worthwhile.

No matter their title or place in life.

Daddy was just plain fun!

He was always with us kids.

He didn't just sit around like the other adults.

It always felt like he enjoyed being with us almost more.

He never rushed me.

Or lost his patience.

He truly loved.

I aim to do the same.

Happy Father's Day to all the dad's in your life

living with us and in our hearts.

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.

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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...

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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.

Is it too early?

For CHRISTMAS?

I realize that those of you who live in the U.S. haven't even celebrated Thanksgiving yet

So you may feel this a little premature...

And there are those of you that sleep when I'm awake

--not that you're nocturnal,

you're just from Down Under

(do you call it the Down Under when you live there?--okay, nevermind)

Anyway,

When do Australians start to decorate?

It's summer isn't it?

Christmas in the summer...

hmmm...

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

Well I'm ready now!

I've decided to buy myself a little gift every year that reminds me of my dad.

You know, something to make me feel that he's still a part of it...

Last year I bought one of these brooches from here

in grey of course.

So this year I was stumped.

Until today that is.

I was reading blogs and stumbled across this post from MakeLifeSweet

Okay.

Seriously.

They know they've got my number.

My VISA number, that is!

I couldn't help myself.

I clicked buy before I even looked at the price.

It's a kit to make 2 pillows using some of their new Make Life... fabric

Which in case you didn't know...

I am IN LOVE WITH!

Why do these pillows remind me of my dad?

Well those little words all over the one star...

Make life special

Make life fun

Make life simple

Make life exciting

you get the idea...

Well my dad,

at Christmas (or any occassion really)

would

Make Life...Colourful

He may have worn alot of grey

and enjoyed a grey day

but that man brought colour to the cheeks and a smile to the face of anyone within earshot!

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

Now....the real question is...

Is it too early to decorate??

Hubby says it is.

I say it isn't!

We argue about it EVERY year!

Apparently my neighbour agrees with me!

I always did like them...

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....

Saving my pennies...

I {heart} the grey.

My dad's favourite colour was grey.

Possibly because he was colour blind...

but still,

since his passing grey has a special place in my heart.

The polka dots make my heart race!

Fabulous!

If this is the future it will be worth the wait!!
Make Life... by Sweetwater

Take a peek!
You can win some too!

Today was Pumpkin's official first day of school.

Oh it's been a rough one FOR ME!!--

I'll tell ya'!

Our bus route is small and so instead of a bus they are picking her up in a big 15 seater van.

This means she needs to be in a booster seat.

Let's just say that the poor bus driver doesn't seem to know how to use a booster seat!

Oh the terrors of watching your baby say bye bye and not knowing if she will be buckled properly when it's time to come back home.

In true P.M.S. (Paranoid Mother Syndrome)

I phoned the school and the matter is resolved.

(thank goodness)

Today reminded me of my dad, however.

Pumpkin had visited the school library in the morning

and you know,

that girl is desperate to read.

She came home, not full of tales of her first day,
but of what story she thought the pictures of this book was telling.

She has a wonderful imagination and is most happy when being read to.

My dad always said,
"If you can read and write, you can do anything!"

I believe this to be true.

He instilled that love of books in her from the very first gift he gave her from his own heart...

The power of the written word.

The love of books.

Tanya had picked me to play in a photo game a while back.

I didn't do it because personal photos

are kind of not going to happen around here for the time being.

But it got me looking at my photos again

and remembering the good times at the beginning of my digital camera days.

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

I'm off to visit my mom this week.

I'm feeling quite sad about it.

For a bunch of reasons, really...

but I think mainly it's because we're going to visit my mom.

just my mom.

--no dad.

This is not new.

We've visited a couple of times since his passing

but it's hard this time.

So I leave you with this old photo of pumpkin and my dad.

Her Papa.

From a time when he was still warm and his hugs were sure.

He took in the cool air with pleasure and basked in his family.

Mainly,

he was here.

Now he's not.

It seems simple but death can be so complicated.

The threads that hold me together...

Well the ties that bind me,
keep me in place,

hold my sanity at a reachable distance,

let go a little this last week.

I lost someone, that I truly treasured.

My "Uncle" Tom.

Not really my relative but as close as one could be.

He and his family have been a fixture in my life since before my birth.

It would have been hard for anyone not to love him.

He was my father's best friend.

The husband of my mother's best friend.

My mom and he were fishing buddies.

Uncle Tom passed on to be with the Lord.

He had been battling a rare type of blood cancer (myeloma??)

(Cancer is so UGLY!)

He leaves behind a wife and soulmate.

4 daughters and 2 son in laws

(another to marry next year)

5 grandchildren

His youngest daughter had a baby less than a week before he died.

Her first child.

The Lord had a plan.

That baby was 3 weeks early.

Uncle Tom held on until she came.

What a blessing.

My poor mother has relived my father's passing through her best friends.

So have I.

Incredibly hard.

To the point I'd rather avoid it.

In less than 2 years since my dad passed away,

he and Tom are together again-

in Heaven.

They're probably cooking up a huge feast together up there

to feed all the angels.

My dad and Uncle Tom used to do all the cooking.

Uncle Tom taught me how to fry an egg at one of

the famous Easter Breakfast's at our church.

"Kelly, you need lots of butter in that pan..."

Lots of memories.

Here's a pic of my dad with his beloved crockpot.

This is why I love the Crockpot Tuesday posts at Miller Racing Family

And here is our dog in hopes of something falling on the floor!

Now with Uncle Tom gone

It makes me miss dad more.

Yeah. It's hard.

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

My Dad and Bubby

My dad never really got to know my son.

Bubby was only 7 months old when my dad was promoted to heaven.

Bubby had just begun eating solids.

In Daddy's last days with us, I fed Bub right beside Dad's wheelchair

so he could see the little monkey gobble it up.

Nothing my Dad liked better than seeing the kiddos enjoy their food.

Sadly, the ALS stole my father's ability to communicate verbally

early on in his diagnosis.

(Here he is with pumpkin on the coast. It was a special trip and they had a special bond. I'm thankful that she has some wonderful memories of her Papa)

He was a wonderful communicator.

And terribly funny.

He told particularly funny stories.

Not always because the story was all that hilarious.

But the way he told it was.

(my cousins, my brother and I as kiddos jumping into the pool with my dad)
My son is an out and out HAM!

He's so talkative and silly.

But he has these serious moments where you look at him

and he's chattering.
All pensive.
Like he's thinking really hard

and is telling you something really important.
He repeats himself, we've noticed.

To further his point, I'm assuming.

We can't understand him yet

but we nod and accept what he's saying as truth.

I see dad in him.

(Bubby, 2 months old, meeting his Papa for the first time)

If Bubby was to have glasses

I imagine him to take them off and stare right into your eyes.

And share his very important bit. Just like my dad.

Sometimes dad would tell a story and he'd tell it with big arm movements

and loud outbursts. Just like Bub.

And if you zoned out for a few minutes,

you could come back and still be on the same page as dad.

I miss my dad and his stories.

He made life interesting.

And even though he feigned no interest in the world

he certainly did know an awful lot about it.

(white socks, black shoes. So my dad. He also wore shorts all year long. Crazy man!)

I can't wait to see what stories and secrets Bubby has to unfold.
I don't want to miss a minute.

To Magnolia, with Love

Oh Magnolia,

how do I love thee?

Let me count the ways.

I love your soft pink petals,

And how delicately you curtsy.

I love that you are waiting on me in the early morning.

The secrets that you keep,

And the pride with which you bloom.

I would if I could, climb into your graceful limbs and build a sanctuary.

If only you would stay a little longer.