Seven Years Gone

Seven years. Long time. But not. It’s been seven years since my dad died. I won’t run through the details. But they are here if you’re interested or curious.

I look back over the year and see all that he missed. The big things. Graduating college and IVF. The little things. Like over 365 cups of coffee not shared. Continue reading “Seven Years Gone”

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Sixty Seconds Worth of Distance Run

Have you ever read the poem IF by Kipling? You should. It is powerful. My brother shared it with me during a difficult time many years ago and I have read it countless times. A copy hangs on my fridge and at my desk at work. It’s malleable; applying to a myriad of challenges. It is motivational. And positive.

If you can fill the unforgiving minute,  With sixty seconds worth of distance run. 

That is how I’ve felt as of late. I’ve been filling a lot of unforgiving minutes. I’ve not made time to write because life seems busier for some reason. And I’m making a lot of adjustments. My routine is being redesigned and I’ve not found the space where writing fits in.

Continue reading “Sixty Seconds Worth of Distance Run”

April 6th

I awoke to swollen eyes. Lids so tight. Like a pressure cooker on high. Blinking took less effort. Eyes were barely open. Sinuses full with equal pressure. My heart feeling as heavy as anvil. I miss him.

That was a lot of tears. The sad heavy kind. The kind that flow with no control, a deep ache within. Arms extended to receive a hug that isn’t there.

Continue reading “April 6th”

a note from the books.

You can read about the books here.

This is my favorite note.

This is the note that splits my emotional atoms in two; he is both here and not. I am happy to have the note but sad to not have him. This is also the note that reminds me how important words of praise are to our children. Genuine words. Not a reply to a child’s prompt. But a praise that comes out of nowhere. Those are the ones that stick with us. I need to do more of that.

Continue reading “a note from the books.”

the books

My dad would write a note each morning. To us. He believed in Mornings. In the note he greeted us, individually by name or as a whole. He’d remind us to have a great day, to “smile large”, he might wish my brother or me good luck on some endeavor or give us the low down on the day’s weather. He almost always drew a smiley face.

Continue reading “the books”

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