Posts Tagged ‘dad’

Veterans Day 2015

Wednesday, November 11th, 2015

This is a repost from last year. I still like it. Plus I added a PS, so that makes it legit for NaBloPoMo.

My dad served in Vietnam when he was fresh out of ROTC. He came home, back to his wife, started a family and lived a healthy, productive life until his death at the age of 60. Not all veterans are so lucky.

Today is Veterans Day and there are lots of men and women in this country who served this country and could now use your help. If you plan to donate this Veterans Day, please consider the Wounded Warrior Project. Additionally, my friend Suzanne wrote a lovely post a few years ago about How to Celebrate Veterans Day that still rings true.

PS and also, just because this drives me insane every single year – please note: it is not Veteran’s Day, no apostrophe.

So cute I have no words

Monday, August 24th, 2015

I have been so busy scanning old family photos, I don’t think I have had a chance to take many new ones lately. This one of my Dad circa 1949 is just about the cutest thing I have ever seen.


So 1940s, it could be a stock photo.

Also this one:



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The Other Shoe

Thursday, January 6th, 2011

I’m feeling strange these first few days of 2011. I feel hopeful. I feel ready. I feel aware. The last time I felt like this was a long ago New Year’s Eve, the night before the dawning of 2004. I flew to Ann Arbor on a whim to hang out with my sister for NYE, watch her then-boyfriend’s band play a show, met a bunch of her friends, was feeling so positive. The world was at my door and I was kicking that thing down. So great in fact, that after copious amounts of PBR, we declared 2004 The Year of Amy. Big mistake. Huge.

2004 ended up being a year of amazing highs and devastating lows. I got in to my first choice grad school (University of Indiana, for the curious few, in Library Science), I got engaged and married. My sister got married. My brother-in-law got married. But, my dad died. My mom dipped far below what I though could possibly be rock bottom. The worst Thanksgiving in the history of Thanksgiving’s occurred. I didn’t go to my first choice grad school. My job to a turn that I had to quit 6 years later to fully shake. And I was never able to eat Craisens again.

The year started off fine enough. A blur of acceptance letters, wedding planning and trips to Indiana to look at the school and get an apartment. And then? July happened. A few things had been rocky earlier in the year, but we were all headed towards July 16th. The wedding. And then, the Monday after the 4th of July weekend my dad, who hadn’t been feeling well, went to the doctor. He was directly admitted to the hospital from this visit. To the step-down ICU/telemetry monitoring unit for a heart problem. He had some underlying medical problems, ate crappy, smoked and drank. A lot. Enough that the hospital stay threw him in to severe DTs. He was sedated to control it and my understanding was that it would be a few days.

And then my wedding happened while my dad was now in the ICU. I wore the big white dress for him, was going to have him walk me down the aisle and as a surprise picked Can’t Smile Without You as the father-daughter dance song. None of that happened. I didn’t see him on the day of my wedding, or the day before. I was too busy. He woke up that day, spoke to my mom, his mom and his sister. And never spoke again. The wedding was beautiful and awesome and a fun party. We left the next morning for our honeymoon and my dad drastically declined and died on the 27th. We were back, my sister made it back in time, but it was unexpected. It will always be closely associated with my wedding day. My mom was unable to function and instead of moving to Indiana, I deferred grad school and we moved in with my mother. Our marriage had a difficult first year.

Let’s jump forward a few years to 2006. My husband and I had just maybe decided to try for a baby before he left for 6 months for a a rigorous training program that would lead to his absolute dream job. The next day, my mom told us she had stage IV lung cancer, which has a very low survival rate and very few people make it a year when lung cancer is diagnosed at that stage. Needless to say, it seem inappropriate to try and make and flaunt a child that she would never see. My husband went off to training, I stayed home and assumed more and more of my mom’s care. The day before he successfully completed his training program, she died. I was not there. I was at my husband’s graduation. Every single time something life-changing and good happens, it kills someone . I was terrified to have Spencer because I thought someone would die. No one did, but he was born 5 years to the day on the anniversary of my dad’s death. So there is that.

Why dwell on all of this now? Because I feel hopeful. Because I want to make things happen. And I am so afraid that if something good happens that someone will die.

Last picture taken of my dad. Helping stuff candy into take-out boxes for favors.

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