Today

November 18th is a day that all of my family holds as important.  My Father passed away on this day in 1976.  I usually blog about this every year, so please excuse my repetitiveness.   Talking to my Mom today, she and my sister went to put wreaths on his grave and on my sister's son's grave. November has a few anniversary items that I'll never forget. When I was 10 our home burned down in November.  We have many stories and accounts of that day.  My first son was born prematurely in November. That's a day Jack and I will never forget and it's often talked about around the table this time of year.  My son will celebrate his 38th birthday in a few days...Dad will have been gone 37 years today.  So much time and so much living has gone by that Dad was not a part of..except in our minds and hearts...always wishing he was here and so many times the thought passing through.."Gee, Dad would have loved this...Dad would have enjoyed these Grandkids..Dad would have had a blast with new technology.  However, realizing he would be 93 and who knows what kind of health issues he would be dealing with, I know he wouldn't mind having left young. In fact, I had a private moment with him the day before he passed away and we talked about dying and about living.  He would be the first to laugh and say "Die young and leave a good looking corpse"...Morbid? Nah, Dad had a great sense of humor and a love of life and a desire to not be a burden.  He wasn't afraid of what was to come.  It's us left behind to sadly fill the blanks, to go on living.  The photo's I have of Dad are obviously old. In fact, I have only a few that were taken after our wedding.  Two of my favorite photos from my wedding were:

Dad walking me down the isle...all the while whispering in my ear: "You can back out any time..it's not too late"..Thanks Dad for those encouraging words! Ha! Then there's this pic:

Dad singing to me and Mom at the reception.  He loved music. Dad played the guitar and he loved to sing.  It was a special moment for both Mom and me. (sorry these pics are so small...my scanner wouldn't enlarge them) I have tons of good memories and I'm always thankful that he was my Dad...even if it wasn't as long as I would have liked.  He did a lot of living in his 56yrs.  He fought in WWII...raised 6 kids...took good care of his parents...worked at a tool and dye maker...wrote poetry...fished and hunted (not particularly successfully!) could fix anything..built his own home that Mom still lives in today. (Yep, the same one that burned..but they rebuilt).  I guess I could go on and on. This blog is journal for me. I hope one day my kids and grandkids will want to read it.  I put it into book form at the end of each year just for that purpose. They never knew my Dad.  Maybe they'll get a flavor of what kind of man he was and maybe when we're all together as a forever family on the other side of the veil,  they will say "Hey, I know you! YaYa told us all about your life" That's my hope anyway..atleast for today.