The holidays are not always easy....

Momma

It has been a rough year with Alzheimer's continuing to wreak havoc on my mother's brain.  Phone calls from the nursing home become more frequent, more stressful, and more aggravating.  Daddy isn't here any more to take care of all of us.  He was mom's caregiver until it just got to be too much for all of us.  Then he became sick....it seems like yesterday, but a lifetime ago too, if that makes any sense.

Being an only child, I was truly close to my father.  We had special days together.  He would always take me to the Shriner's Circus.  I'd sit on his shoulders at Alcatraz Paint as Ringling Bros. Circus unloaded near his office at the train tracks.  We played Putt-Putt together a lot, badmington, and croquet. Fun times in the Gooch!

I remember our days of decorating the Christmas tree together.  He always cussed out the Christmas lights, especially when there was a light missing or broken.  Somehow no matter how meticulously we tried to put them away in the attic, we ended up with a tangled mess the next year.  He also played Santa well.  His sweet handwriting always brought young joy to my face as I ran down the hall every amazing holiday morning.  Ironically, he said frequently he was not a fan of Christmas, but secretly, I think he enjoyed it a little.

Daddy bought me my first camera. It was a Canon, but I LOVED his Mamiya SLR that he brought back from Korea when he was in service there.  He taught me about aperture, composure, light exposure, and more.  He made me the photographer I am today.  He made me excited about becoming the yearbook adviser at Louisa High School when I first started my teaching career.  He taught me much, so thank you Daddy!

Summers together were never a dull moment When I was in sixth grade, we put in an in-ground pool at our house.  Ironically, Daddy didn't know how to swim.  He wanted me to teach him.  I tried, but was unsuccessful, so he bought those blow up swimmers for his arms, and taught himself.  I think that pool was more of a pain in his ass taking care of it than the good times. He sure did enjoy watching Matthew as a little baby giggling in the water waves.  Good times....how did they slide by so quickly?

I really just wanted to write about him.  Maybe he is talking to me from Heaven to share his story, or maybe he is just saying hello in his own way like he does in my dreams on occasion. Losing a parent is no easy task. I watched him decline.  I endured his anger as he became sick.  I "get it" Daddy... you are forgiven, and I told you repetitively as you lay in the hospice bed how much I loved you.  I'm sure I'll be angry too when I become an old woman, and my son is telling me what to do, or that I'm losing my "shit."  I tried to be the best daughter I could be.  There are days I wonder if I did enough, despite what Matthew and John tell me.   

Grief hits me at the most inopportune moments.  I could be driving home from Wegmans and suddenly go into fits of sobs.  Where the heck did that come from?  I talk about him frequently with my students...share childhood stories and remind them how precious their parents are, even though they disagree with me a hundred percent.  Another Christmas without you. I know you're here though...pushing me....pushing Matthew.....pushing us all to be the best we can be.  I finished my first semester at Longwood for both of us.  I cussed a lot, slept little, but pulled through it just fine.  I'm almost there.  I sure hope you're there to hold my hand the rest of the way.....until we see each other again....love you.