Things to Do

In the movie, Big Fish, there is a scene in which Ewan McGregor's character says, "They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops. And that's true. What they don't tell you is that once time starts again it moves extra fast to catch up."

That's where we are now. It is a wonderful time in our lives, but its going by so fast.

Andre is really great about making the most of every day and I think we probably stay busier than most people. Certainly most people with twin toddlers. Some people may even argue that we should stay home more and get chores done. But this blog entry isn't about what my sister would say, its about all the fun things to do with kids right here in Austin.

Here are just a few suggestions for places to eat and places to go.

There two great places to take kids for burgers. The first is Freddy's Place. They have a nice playground with tables close enough to catch your child if they fall off the slide. Plus, they usually have some pretty good live music.

The other is Phil's Icehouse. They have great burgers, including mini sliders, plus Amy's Ice cream is right next door. Both places open out onto an awesome playground. We took these pictures there.


If you can't agree on what to eat, try south park meadows. Everyone can order something different from one of the several restaurants then enjoy a massive playground. The downside to this is that its so big and there are so many people, you've gotta keep a close eye on the kids (unless they're older).

Or if you want to eat out of the grocery store, you could always try Central Market North. Their playground is well shaded and relaxing for adults.

Parkwise, there are loads of great parks here. Some good spots to take the kiddo's: the fountains at the Liz Carpenter Fountain in Butler Park (by the Long Center). There are flat dancing fountains designed for kids to play on.

Andre loves Barton Springs, which has both a park and playground and snow cones and a train. You can rent canoes too, or just sit and watch the ducks.

I would also recommend our local zoo. Its a small zoo and is actually an animal sanctuary. Next to the enclosures are signs with the animal's story and how they came to the zoo. They have a lion that was confiscated from a drug dealer, another that was a junk yard guard, parrots that have outlived their owners, and even a very large tortoise found on the side of the road.

They currently have the most amazing white, black and red, vulture that is a must see. The girls love the petting zoo and feeding the goats.

My Aunt Robin said, you should try to make memories with your kids, not just spend time with them. Hopefully we're doing a good job.

4th Annual Fishing Trip

I've had a difficult time updating this blog lately. I've been busy sure. But if I'm really honest with myself, the real reason is I've just been sad. It seems like I miss my dad a little more every day.

Even as I write this I can hear him saying, "Life is for the living." The thing about people who repeat themselves is that when they're gone you still remember what they said.

Needless to say, much has happened over the past few weeks. The girls experienced their first beach. Complete with waves, sand, seashells, and...saltwater? No, no saltwater. We took them to Wisconsin on the great lakes, which are so "great" that they have waves and sandy beaches just like the ocean. You almost forget its not the ocean until a duck waddles by.

The girls were initially frightened of the waves. They timidly dipped in a toe, then another one. Legs, then arms, then splashing in the water. Then they decided they should just take off all their clothes and jump in.

They giggled so much, as if the beach and the water and the waves were made just for them. And although I didn't really want them to get completely soaked like that, it didn't seem right to interfere with this first experience that was so joyful. So I let them romp around until they were ready to go and we changed them into dry clothes and shook the sand out of their shoes.

We spent our trip on the peninsula of Wisconsin, in Bailey's Harbor. It is a lush green, vacation spot with cafes, shops, and tourists. It's like a fishing village designed by Pottery Barn. Every storefront is picturesque, sailboats line the harbors, and all the people are in vacation-mode...or at least we were. Even the farms are beautiful, with big red barns, and large white farmhouses.



This was our 4th annual fishing trip with our very good friends. The fishing group had a new member this year, Baby Jocelyn, who is just 6 month old. She is such a great baby and so beautiful. I just wanted to hold her all the time, but anytime I picked the little cutie up the girls started crying. They were so jealous. I guess its no more kids for Andre and I. But give it another year or two and Jocelyn with be their partner in crime, I'm sure.

Of course a fishing trip is not complete without fishing. So we chartered a fishing boat one day. The kids spent the afternoon with Rachel's mom and aunt who drove in to watch them while we were gone. I had never chartered a fishing boat before, so I didn't know what to expect.

One guy drove the boat to the best fishing location, then the other guy put lures on the fishing lines, lowered them into the water with weights--about 12 fishing poles at once. They would watch the lines and when one jerked they'd yell, "FISH ON!" then the next in line would reel the fish in. The guy would unhook it, weigh it, and throw it in a freezer. At the end of the trip he even filleted them. It was more like "reeling," than it was "fishing," which is great in my book. Everyone caught a fish (mostly king salmon), which we brought home with us. We will be eating salmon for the next month.

The girls really enjoyed the trip. We drove there, which truthfully worried me since its a 2 1/2 day trip, but it turned out great. We took long breaks driving on the way, stopping at parks, playscapes, and even an indoor jump castle place. Our new minivan's dvd player was also great. Once there, the girls had tons of toys with them, their big stroller, etc., and we had room to bring back all that salmon we caught. Coming home we spent the 4th of July at my Aunt Ann's house, with my other aunt and uncle, cousins, mom, and grandmother. So it was a good trip all around.

Happy Father's Day

Father's Day 2010 from Leigh on Vimeo.

Joey

I came home Sunday night to find our dog, Joey, laying on the tile in the kitchen. There was something unnatural about the way he was lying on the floor, about the way he didn't jump up to greet me.

He looked the way a person does when they collapse. He was laying in his own urine. His hind legs stretched to one side in a way a dog does not lay. He looked up at me with large, sad eyes. Poor Joey.

He had been laying around more than usual on the days leading up to Sunday night. He had always had hip problems. Just an old arthritic dog, so when I found him that night I thought it had to be his hips.

I called my friend who's a vet and she instructed me to make him comfortable until I could take him into the vet.

That night I cleaned him up as best I could and gently moved him onto his dog bed. With a wet rag I gently wiped his face, his legs, his head. I thought of my dad in the ICU on a ventilator and the time I rubbed his hands with lotion; looking for some way, however minor, to ease the pain. I thought of all the times I had sat next to him petting his head and telling him he was my "baby dog."

Andre came home early in the morning and together we lifted him into the car. The first thing we discovered was that it was not his hips at all. They were, at most, an unrelated problem. It was his abdomen that was causing the real problems. His pale white gums were a sign of a problem with his spleen, but there were other possibilities too. X-rays, blood tests, tick tests, and finally they recommended that we take him to the pet hospital to stay in ICU. Perhaps he had leptospirosis. He was started on intravenous antibiotics immediately, with another dose ordered for 8 hours later.

He seemed to perk up as Andre transported him to the animal hospital. He called me happy and hopeful saying that maybe Joey just needed the antibiotics, that he was doing much better, maybe it would all be okay afterall.

When he called back an hour or so later, I knew by the sound of his voice that his hopes had fallen short. Joey was not going to be okay after all. The vet had tried to draw some fluid from his abdomen and the syringe was nothing but blood. They believe he had a tumor on his spleen that ruptured. He's an old dog for surgery, and besides, the vet said, it is likely to be malignant. There was really nothing we could do.

Andre picked me up to say our goodbyes to our "baby dog." We pet him, and loved on him, and told him how wonderful he had always been, crying the whole time. Andre brought him an Arby's roast beef sandwich with extra cheese. Then the doctor gave him a sedative, then a shot that stopped his heart. And like a clock winding down, he let out one final snore and he was gone.

Freya, our German Shepherd, has been looking for him. Standing at the windows, or just staring blankly in the yard. I know exactly how she feels.

We buried him the next day on our friend's land out in Bastrop.

Joey was such a wonderful dog. He was more human than a lot of humans I know. He was sweet, gentle, and lovable. He would lay his head on your lap, or just lean against you. He was happiest eating and lying in the sun. Everyone who met him, loved him, as did we. He broke the stereotypes for pit bulls and was a breed all his own: a "pig-dog".

Video of Joey

Rosebud

As a child, I remember walking around my grandfather's land looking at the fallen walls of an old house and the place where a chimney once stood. My father would tell me that he had lived in that house when he was young, but it was hard to imagine a time in which the house stood upright. I asked him if a tornado hit it, but, "no, it was just old and fell."

Today, the Salvation Army took a truck load of odds and ends, the last remaining salvageable items from my father's house. Four investors came to look at the house and make offers. His fallen down place.

There is something about losing a parent that has made me feel like my childhood is completely over. I've been an adult for a long time, married with my own children, but there is a finality that I had not experienced before. All the memories that could ever be made are done. That's it. There will be no more new memories of my dad.

All the ones that I have are all the ones that I will ever have. And you hope that you spent enough time together, that you listened well, and asked all the questions you needed to ask--because there's no more answers either.

I walked around this old house while the movie of my childhood played in my mind. I stared at the cracks in the tiled floor and saw myself playing hopscotch across them. The tree house I once climbed in is now a stump in the yard. Everything smaller and insignificant, old and dilapidated. I wanted to explain to the investors that it was once a great place to live, but they don't care. They want a quick, cheap, fixer-upper.

I left the house and went down to the neighborhood park two houses away. The walk there was shorter than I remembered. All the houses in the neighborhood, all those kids I played with have grown and moved away. The fairytale playground equipment has been replaced with giant industrial playscapes, all bright and shiny. Cinderella's coach, the Old Lady in the Shoe's shoe--oh, and Little Miss Muffet's spider--are gone.

The house has been in a steady decline for a long time--years even. I asked him to move here, but "no, he was fine" that sort of thing. But it doesn't matter anyway. He would still be gone even if the house looked as new as the day he bought it. Time passes whether you notice or not.

Everything has changed. Changed places. Changed hands. The land I went to as a child now belongs to me, and one day, (sooner than I want to imagine), it will belong to Rowan and Evelyn.


These are some memories of my dad that I put together:

My Dad from Leigh on Vimeo.

Twins Turn Two

Last Saturday (April 10th) was the twins 2nd birthday. I stayed up until the wee hours of the morn making their cake and about 40 miniature cupcakes. The bottom layer was chocolate, the top was strawberry, and the cupcakes were those two plus white confetti. I made a homemade cream cheese butter cream, which I have to say is my favorite icing. Then I topped the cake with animal figures from the girl's nativity set.

Making the cake was a lot of work, and I could have bought one, but for me it was just one of those things I had to do. For as long as I remember, I imagined making my kids birthday cakes. We had a barnyard theme to go with the petting zoo and pony rides.

At one point Andre asked if the party was for the girls or for me...and honestly its hard to say. I mean, really, who doesn't love baby animals? Even my grandmother loved it. This little baby goat was only a week old and spent the entire time curled up in my grandmother's arms.Fry's Fun Farm supplied the petting zoo, complete with a baby donkey, and calf.

It was a big hit with all the children. The pony rides were only appreciated by the older kids. Evelyn and Rowan wouldn't go anywhere near the pony. They had plenty of other animals though: lots of little bunnies, ducks, chicks, a full grown rooster, and baby goats. They even had a little piglet that would squeal every time someone tried to pick him up. Fry's provided dry food as well so the kids to feed the little animals. At one point Rowan tried to feed Evelyn some.

We had quite a few kids at the party and a nice range of ages too. Andre had the local fire station bring a fire truck and they actually brought a ladder. The fire fighters were so nice, they brought two stuffed bears for the girls. Of course, the older kids were really excited to see a fire truck and get to climb inside.


And arriving just in time to enjoy the party, our friends Viki and Dale flew in from Canada to visit for a week. The girls really love them, as do we. Viki and I have been friends since we went to school together in England--maybe 9 years ago. It is so wonderful to share your life with great friends.




To top it off, our firefighter friend Ax gave the girls three of their very own chickens. "Nugget," "Dumpling," and "Drumstick" are the newest members of our family. They are a breed called silver laced Wyandottes.

Andre is so in love with them. He takes them out of their little cage everyday and lets them play in the yard. The girls like them too and say "my chi-ken," and point to them. Joey (our dog) is also very fond of the chickens and loves to stare at them while licking his lips. Andre keeps telling him, "No Joey, they're family", but I don't think he really cares.

Easter

A lot has been going on lately, but since everyone has to start somewhere, I might as well begin with Easter.

Early Easter morning, Evelyn walked into our room to jump into bed with us. This has been her habit lately, and as she climbed up I told her, "Evelyn, last night the Easter bunny came and he brought you lots of goodies." Her eyes grew big and round and she was smiling ear to ear. I grabbed her basket off the dresser and she immediately began tearing into candy and pulling out plastic eggs. Rowan followed shortly after and we soon had two toddlers pumped up on sugar and chocolate.

Of course, Rowan came in carrying her giant rabbit pinata. They sell them on the street and as we passed by Rowan pointed out the window and said "bunny," so we stopped and bought one. It was suppose to be for both of the girls, but as we set it in the back of the car Rowan quickly began pointing at Evelyn saying "NO," then pointing at the rabbit and saying, "MINE" and this "No-Mine," bit went on until Evelyn appeared to comprehend that the rabbit belonged to Rowan. Evelyn gave her a look that seemed to say, "fine whatever, keep your pinata," and from then on she'd only try to touch it if Rowan wasn't looking.

For the next several days Rowan carried the giant pinata everywhere and insisted on sleeping with it. Of course it took up the majority of her toddler bed, so we'd take it out once she fell asleep. Andre had a terrible time convincing her to go to school without it. We obviously couldn't crack it open--not with Rowan being so attached to it. So she loved on it for weeks, until it was almost losing an ear and I moved it to the garage.

Anyhow, the girls were full of chocolate and marshmallow peeps, so we dressed up and headed to church. It was a typical Easter sermon--rebirth, resurrection, etc. Exactly what one would expect on an Easter Sunday, but it made me really miss my dad for some reason.

After church, and after naps, we went to my sisters to celebrate with the family. We brought over a huge bag of cascarones (confetti filled into the shells of eggs). Typically you crack them on other people's heads, but the girls seem to have more fun cracking them on their own heads.

New Orleans

We had a little family vacation to New Orleans last weekend to celebrate Will and Bea's wedding. This is a picture of Jackson Square that I would like to take credit for, except I think Andre took it.

New Orleans is such a beautiful city, I really love it. After Katrina I remember hearing people say things like, "why rebuild the city if its just going to get hit again," and to me, it seems like these are people who have never been to New Orleans. It is a uniquely wonderful place.

The people are warm and friendly. People would stop us on the street to say how cute the girls are or ask if they're twins, we had a jazz musician play the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" for them on a trumpet. The weather was lovely, and everything was blooming. Walking down the french quarter, every house has wrought iron balconies with big green ferns draped out of canisters. I mean, its just so incredible. How could we not do everything in our power to support this lovely city? I walked around with Harry Connick Jr.'s voice singing, "Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans," in my head and thinking about how the city is like no other.

We brought my mom this time, and rented a little bed and breakfast suite--minus the breakfast called the 1822 Bougainvillea House. It was perfect. We had two large rooms, a kitchen, bath, and it opened out onto an enclosed garden. We could leave our back door open to let in the sunshine and the girls could run around the garden looking at flowers or for the cat that lived there. Plus, we were within walking distance of the French Quarter.

My mom was really helpful and we all enjoyed her company, especially the girls. It was nice to be able to do the trip as a family.




Friday began with coffee and beignets at Cafe Du Monde in the French Market. The girls ate all the powdered sugar off of them and then asked for more. Rowan ate one tiny part of beignet, but the rest was all sugar. Evelyn didn't even try--all she cared about was more sugar.


After Cafe Du Monde we all went to the New Orleans Zoo. Its one of the best zoos I've been to, second only to the Denver Zoo and Disney's Animal Kingdom (if that counts as a zoo). They have so many beautiful animals, and their habitats are large, natural looking places. You can see every animal has their favorite little toys and there are lots of interactive exhibits.

The girls got to feed the otters pieces of carrots and fish, which they of course went crazy over. Evelyn was especially thrilled. It was one of the few times I believe Evelyn was as crazy over the animals as Rowan was.



They also had a nice play area for the kids and a carousel. We took them on a carousel in Denver and they were both scared, but this time they didn't want to get off. Rowan insisted on riding the panda every time, but Evelyn kept wanting to change animals.

That night Andre and I went to the rehearsal dinner in a little bistro called bistro Maison de Ville that closed down for the party. We got to catch up with our friends Mike and Andee, and just laugh and have a good time. The meal was phenomenal--truly one of the best I've ever had.



Meanwhile, my mom took care of Rowan and Evelyn. They found a drawer full of Mardi Gras beads and party favors. The girls went crazy. Every toddlers dream come true. For the rest of the weekend they would walk around our room with layers of Mardi Gras beads.











The next day we started out with a walk through the French Market. Then we headed to the Aquarium, which is just beautiful. Its really nice for kids too. They have a whole section that is a huge play area for them.









Saturday night was the wedding. Andre left early since he was a groomsman, so my mom, the girls and I went for a light dinner, walk, and then let the girls play in Jackson Square. Then we all walked over to Artillery Park for the wedding. The park overlooks Jackson Square on one side, Cafe Du Monde on another and the Mississippi river on yet another. Down below the park are artists, street performers, and horse drawn carriages. For two people as in love with New Orleans as Will and Bea, I can't imagine a more perfect place to have a wedding.

This is a great picture of Will, Belen, Mike and Andee, at the wedding, but its missing Bea. The only picture I got of the happy couple is one of them dancing. I was having such a great time myself that I completely failed as a paparazzi. Bea looks gorgeous though and her dress was very pretty.


The reception was held at a hotel in the quarter. We sat with friends and talked about how much one should tip the server so that he would bring our drinks quickly. Apparently, someone (probably David) guessed the right amount because by the end of the wedding I was feeling like it had just begun. Before it was over everyone was given napkins and then Bea, holding a parasol, and Will led everyone around the room in a big procession--I believe is called a "second line dance." Everyone following behind were dancing and waiving their napkins. It was so much fun.

After the wedding, we headed out to some of the favorite bars of our friends. Andre soon discovered that he loves wearing a bow tie, especially untied and we sat around talking and laughing about a girl trying to flirt with a guy dressed as a pirate in front of the entrance to the bar and other such amusements. The bartender knew both Will and Bea and she handed them bottles of champagne. They walked back and forth from our bar and the one next door pouring champagne for people, being congratulated by everyone.

In New Orleans the bars stay open all night, and you can come and go with your drink. So I wasn't sure what time we finally left, its like Vegas that way--time is sort of irrelevant.

The next day we got up early, went for breakfast and headed home. On our way we stopped off at "the cajun village" in Sorrento. Its a replica of an Acadian Village, complete with their own, very fat, very large alligators.

My Little Pony

See you can have two kids, exactly the same age, doing exactly the same thing, yet they can each have a completely different experience. Ha!

This is Rowan and Evelyn at school today. They had Pony Picture Day. We were a little worried they wouldn't like the ponies after they refused to ride on one at the Renaissance Festival. However, we have ordered a pony to come to their birthday in a couple of weeks so we were hopeful they would have a change of heart.

Rowan seems to be having a good time. She so loves any animal. Her first laugh was at dogs playing and she walks around the house with her "babies" two little stuffed animals. She looks like a little Texan cowgirl.

Evelyn...not so much. She likes animals all right. She'll pet a cat, or pull on a tail, but I can just see her telling her teacher, "no way am I getting on that pony." What this new teacher doesn't realize is that Evelyn will never forget that she made her do it and will hold it against it her. Its true. She may only be two, but she doesn't forget anything.

Gardening

Evelyn was mowing the yard this morning with her toy mower. All the rain has made the grass green and long. Now that the weather is nice, the girls are wanting to be outside all the time.

They planted seeds last week in an indoor plant starter tray, so every day they want to water it and stare at the new sprouts. We have decided to create a little garden for the girls by the house in the former dog run. Inspired by the "Secret Garden," its their own little area to have tea parties and play.

It sounds weird that it was the previous owner's dog run, but the area is about 18' x 13' with a fence and gate around it. Its close enough to the house that you can see and hear the girls from the living room and kitchen. And its lightly shaded--a big plus in warmer weather.

We planted Tangerine Beauty, a trumpet cross vine, along the fence. Next, we will replace the grass with a soft Zoysia, install some nice plants along the borders, and some little garden statutes, a child size bench, maybe a little table set.

In another area of the yard, Andre is preparing to level the ground so he can install their new playscape. Its not "new" new. Just new to us, but its really nice and I know the girls are going to love having their own playset.

Playing Together

Here's a picture of Rowan and Evelyn playing this evening. This little stroller is for dolls, but they were taking turns pushing each other around the house in it, occasionally chasing the dogs.

They play so well together. It is one of the most wonderful things about twins--their ability to share, to play, and to think of one another. Sure there are times when it's "me" and "mine,"just like any toddler; but so often I witness them playing together in ways that other kids their age aren't doing yet.

I have read that small children will become attached to a transitional object--a doll, or blankie, or stuffed animal. It is something that makes them feel safe and happy. Yet for twins their transitional object is the other twin.

That being said,they don't always play so great with other kids. We took them to the park the other day and Rowan was very insistent that she was not going to let this little boy play on the playscape with her and Evelyn. Rowan stood at the stairs with Evelyn behind her, pointed her little finger at the boy and said, "no" in her cute baby voice.

Sherwood Forest Faire

Today was a lovely, sunny day. The girls woke us up at 6am, crawling into our bed and saying, "baba" over and over until we met their demands. After diaper changes and babas, we snuggled under the covers because the babies are warm and cuddly, and also because sometimes they'll fall back to sleep. But today they just jumped on the bed, and jumped on us, laughing and playing until it was obvious that the morning wasn't going away.

They had had a cold the past couple of days. Just sort of a goopy, snotty sort of cold. Their pediatrician gave them some meds and said they'd be well in a day or two. By this afternoon they were running crazy around the house, wanting to go out and play. So we decided to make good on our plans to go to the Renaissance Festival"Sherwood Forest Faire" 45 minutes away.

This festival is new. Its the first season they've been open. I was really impressed with how big it is (25 acres), how many buildings they built, and the girls had a great time. Several of our friends went, and some friends with kids too. There was a large section with kid's themed activities. The girls tried on princess hats and elf hats. They stared at older kids playing with wooden swords. And generally just ran around. The weather was so beautiful and the location is full of tall trees.

We watched a show on birds of prey. Rowan was so intrigued with the birds, laughing and clapping. She just loves animals so much. They had a little petting zoo and Rowan made sure that she had pet every bunny before we left. They got to pet chickens, a pot belly pig, baby goat, a duck--and they even saw a llama.

They had pony rides too, but Evelyn and Rowan would not ride the pony no matter how much we tried to convince them it was a good idea. Evelyn actually said the word, "no," which means a lot since she rarely speaks. Well, that was all it took for Rowan--if Evelyn won't do it then she's not going to do it either. That goes for everything too, not just ponies. Evelyn is smaller and quieter, but she's the leader around here.

All the flowers from the funeral are almost dead. Which is weird since it feels like yesterday that my dad died. Only the stubborn daisies are still hanging on.

My Eulogy for My Father

Thank you all so much for coming today to celebrate my father's life.

The day before my father passed away, he said, “We've had a long journey you and me.” I said, “its been fun though, hasn't it?” “Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “I really did have fun.”

And I believe he did. My dad found joy in life. Even when it was hard. Even when it was sad. He found great joy. And when there was not much joy to go around, then he made a joke of it and laughed anyway.

John Vance was a funny guy. Some would say funny, “haha” while other's would say funny, “hrmm,” but he was funny and I think his ability to laugh has been a great lesson.

This has been a particularly difficult time for me, as I know it has been for all of you. He was the most special person and I love him so dearly. I will miss him every day of my life, and so will my children, and I know you all will miss him too.

But grief is not the legacy my father leaves for us. He built his life with joy in his heart and it is this joy that he gave to each of us, and it is this joy that we must remember.

My dad found humor in everything. I remember coming to this old cemetery as a child with him. He would tease me and say, “This place is so great, people are just dying to move in.”

He loved people, and was especially good with children. He taught elementary for years and years at Glenview Elementary. I can still recall adults coming up to us in restaurants to say hello to their old favorite teacher, “Mr. Vance.” All of our friends loved him too.

When we were kids, he found nothing more hilarious than to scare us. My cousins still talk about my dad driving us around telling the story of Bloody Mary. Then when we were thoroughly frightened the car would mysteriously stall and what do you know, that's Bloody Mary's house right over there, run up and ask for help. We'd start screaming and he'd roar with laughter.

My father used to sing me silly songs, and throw me in the air. He told me how much he loved me in a thousand different ways. On my birthday he retold the story of my birth, and never failed to make me feel like the most loved daughter that ever lived. He loved fully and completely; and I loved him just as much.

He was always funny. No matter what was happening in your life, he could find a way to make you laugh. Or in the very least, to realize that problems are temporary and that in the bigger scheme of things, everything was going to be okay. When I had had a particularly tough time, my father would say, “Leigh Ann, if this is the worst thing that ever happens to you then you should be happy.”

I grieve the loss of my father today, but I will rejoice in the love he gave to me forever.

I urge all of you to remember my father for the joy he brought into your own life and share that joy with others. That is his true legacy.

I would like to end now, with an excerpt from one of my father's favorite poems that he used to quote to me:

It is Ode to Imitations of Immortality by William Wordsworth

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;

The funeral

I buried my father yesterday. It was a beautiful service. I think he would have approved.

It was cold and rainy Saturday. I was disappointed that the weather wasn't nicer, and at the same time it seemed more appropriate. Its always disconcerting when you feel miserable on a lovely day.

We had the service under the old Newberry church. Its just a pavilion really. Its old and rustic; what you would imagine a church revival to take place in. I believe it dates back to the 1800s.

There are two rows of wooden pews. We set up a table with pictures of my father.

The service began with our friend Coitt playing the bagpipes. He played The Bells of Dunblaine--my favorite bagpipe song. My cousin Lu connected us with one of the Methodist ministers from her church. Jason, the minister, was fabulous. I couldn't have asked for a better sermon.




After the sermon, I gave a eulogy honoring my father, his best friend went next, and then my cousin Ronnie. Then the minister spoke again.

At the end, Coitt led everyone to the gravesite playing Going Home. The hearse took my father to the site and once there, the military honor guard carried him to the place over his grave.

They folded the American flag, then fired three rounds. One honor guard handed me the flag on "behalf of the president and a grateful nation." He then placed the bullet shells from the rounds in my hand. Then Coitt played Amazing Grace and the minister concluded the funeral.

Funeral planning

I bought a cemetery plot for my father today next to the family in Newberry cemetery. This is a picture of the cemetery I found online. It has actually been nice weather--sunny and cool.

He is right under a tree and close to his grandmother "Mamie" and by his mother's brother and sister who died of TB. It is beautiful and so we also bought one next to it for us. I wanted to bury him somewhere that I would go to again. Somewhere peaceful and serene.

My friend Alexis said planning a funeral was a lot like planning a wedding. To me, it seems like we're planning a shotgun wedding and the bride is missing. Everything is done so quickly and we're just guessing what Dad would want.

Unlike a wedding, the planning is not the stressful part. Its nice to have something to focus on. Should I have "this flower or that flower" is so preferable to the realization that my dad is gone. It is the moments when I'm still and quiet that hurt the most.

I've been dreaming about my dad. The first night we were all getting ready to go to a party. I kept asking if that meant my dad wasn't dead and people would say things like, "silly girl, no, you just need to pick out a dress."

Then the next night he was leaving and handing me money from his pocket. He started to give me a few bills, then just gave me the whole wad of cash saying that he didn't need it. I said, "I don't want any money, just stay here," and he said in his west Texas twang, "oh, well, I best be going." I was crying and saying that I wanted to go too, but he said I couldn't go with him.

The worst part of the dreams is that I wake up feeling like its all just been a bad dream, and that my dad is fine; then I realize that its reality that is the bad part and I hurt all over again.

As awful as this has all been, there is a silver lining in that I have grown close to my cousin Lu and her family. They are so amazing and so loving. They have opened their homes and their hearts to us and really held my hand through this process. Lu went to the funeral home with us, she set up meetings with the cemetery personnel, went to Millsap to the cemetery and even found a minister. I love them so dearly, they are amazing, wonderful, people.

Also amazing, wonderful, people are my sister, mother, and husband. Thank you.

Dad

My father passed away today. He had been in the hospital, but was doing much, much better. In fact, this morning the nurse told him he may go home today. Sometime early afternoon his blood pressure began to drop and they just couldn't save him.

I miss him so much. I had all these plans for him. I moved him out of his house, kicked out his freeloading roommates, and found a wonderful place for him to live. He was suppose to move here and live in this great place and then we would visit all the time. The girls and I were suppose to hang out with him on nights Andre was working late. I was planning a big birthday party for him too. After all these years, I was finally going to be able to spend lots of time with him. I had plans and this was not a part of the plan.

My father would have said, "God has a big laugh when we make plans." And I suppose that's true, but its not funny. I miss him so much. I feel as if someone has torn a piece out of me and that I'll never be whole again. I just can't imagine not being able to call him. I feel like I just need to talk to him one more time. I so love him.

My Dad

Last Wednesday, my father drove himself to the hospital. Becoming disoriented, he drove around for three hours before he found it even though his home is only 5 minutes away. I am told he was coughing up blood and barely breathing.

He contracted a bacterial pneumonia that was buried deep into his lungs. Of course, no one knew this at first. The doctors guessed pneumonia and put him on a bi-pap. He appeared to improve for a day, then took a turn for the worse. They ordered cat-scans, more tests, and breathing treatments that shook the bed trying to pound out the infection. He also tested positive for a staph infection in his blood and lungs.

The lack of oxygen made him disoriented and he tried to pull his tubes out and leave the room so they tied him to the bed. My father is a tall man. His feet touch the metal foot board even with his knees bent. He is miserable and in spite of everything he wasn't getting better.

So the doctors performed a surgery on his lungs and inserted a plastic tube that drains out bloody liquid.

There is a guessing quality in the medical field that always makes me feel uneasy. "We think...",they tell me, or "probably it's this..." or "it could be that..." I'm not saying that I think the doctors have done anything wrong, not at all. Its just that it always feels like they're throwing darts while blindfolded just hoping that one will land on the bulls-eye. All of their uncertainty makes the helplessness of it hit home.

In addition to surgery, they also put him on a ventilator. I have never actually seen someone on a ventilator before. In movies sure, but not in real life.

It seems like some device Edgar Allen Poe or Alfred Hitchcock would have dreamed up. He can't speak or even close his mouth. He can't move or turn over, and his hands and feet are tied. He tries to talk, but he can't even mouth words so the first day he kept moving his eyes and his eyebrows trying to tell me something. I kept naming objects, people, things, anything and he'd get frustrated the way you do when you're playing charades and no one guesses what your trying to say. I tried to give him something to write with, but he just scribbled circles and got more upset.

I walked out of the room and bawled.

When I pulled it together and went back I saw his hands were really dry and I remembered that I had a travel size bottle of lotion. I rubbed lotion on his hands and arms and those feelings of helplessness lessened a little. He closed his eyes pleasantly. I got the nurse to untie him and stretch his arms, rolling his shoulders and massaging his arms. He was really happy about that. I told him everything was going to be okay and not to worry. That his bills were being paid, his car was fine, we were fine, everything was taken care of and that he was getting better. It would be over soon.

The next day he was better and I was too. I looked for the little ways I could make him more comfortable. I put moisturizer on his lips that were dry and bloody from having to stay open so long. I put a cold wet cloth on his forehead. I taped pictures of his grandchildren where he could see them. By then he could write too.

He seems to be doing better everyday and even watched the UT football game tonight. The other good thing that has come out of this is that I have reconnected with some of my cousins, extended family and friends. I'll write more about them later, but they are awesome.

Happy Festivus

Well, its been another happy festivus for the rest of us.

Christmas with my dad

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts. ~Kahil Gibran

I was thinking of this poem today.

We drove an hour and a half to meet my father for lunch. That was not how I envisioned spending the Christmas holiday with him, which is odd because my vision is something that has never actually happened. My vision takes place over a few days, a fire is going in the fireplace, we're all drinking eggnog and laughing while the kids open presents. Its a made-for-TV version that I've made up somewhere along the way and then held out to be "normal" even though its never been the norm for us.

Although we talk at least once a week; I last saw him over eight months ago. When asked to visit, he'd say, "sure, we'll hatch out a plan." A month or so later I say, "next weekend," and he says, "put me down for a maybe." As the date approaches he suggests meeting halfway for lunch instead.

If you know my father, you're probably laughing by now. It is so typical--and my holiday vision is so obviously not. This is the man who left my wedding immediately after the father-daughter dance. We hadn't even cut the cake yet. He refuses to drive down on holidays because of the traffic and "besides," he says, "who really cares about the actual day?" I just don't get it. He's retired and I'm his only child, its not like he has a busy schedule.

Thus, Kahil Gibran's poem came to mind this afternoon. Not only can we not make our children think and be like us, but we can't make our parents either.

What Kahil failed to say is that the real folly of expecting the people in our lives to become our vision of who we think they should be is that we miss out on who they actually are.

For years I kept expecting him to do things he just wasn't going to do. This was my failing, not his. I wanted him to be exactly like I thought he should be which only took the focus off of how great he already was.

He's the dad that stopped everything and built me a treehouse because I wanted one right then. Okay, so it didn't have any railings and telling a five year old to just "not get too close to the edge" is probably not the safest idea...but still it was a pretty cool treehouse.

He's the dad that every year on my birthday will call me and tell me the story of my birth adding in how amazing it all was. And when he tells me about his own life he tells the real stories, not the happy-go-lucky ones other dads tell. And when he tells me that he'll always love me no matter what and that he'll always be there for me, I know he means it.

So, when asked if I was disappointed to not see more of him this holiday, I honestly answered "no." I miss him, I would have liked to have seen him more, but he is who he is and I love him as he is.