Good Grief

I have never lost anyone before. Except for my favorite Grandma who passed away when I was 25. She was probably my favorite person in the whole world. But she was over 90 and she pretty much committed old person suicide (meaning she stubbornly starved herself to death). I have slowly mourned her passing for years-I have wonderful memories of her and I miss her terribly but I never grieved for her.

So I was totally unprepared to lose my father this past weekend. I knew he was ill. Only days before he had been diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer. I spent a day coping with this. I cried. I worried. I knew he wouldn’t have long. I tried to imagine all the helpful things I would do to comfort him in the months to come. I sent photos and had my children draw get well cards. The cards never made it.

On Saturday I got a call. My father had passed away instantly and painlessly in his favorite comfy chair in the company of friends. We should all be so lucky. BUT I selfishly wanted more time. I am grateful my father was saved the agony of slowly dying from cancer but I had so many plans-so many questions-and so much left unsaid. I didn’t get to say goodbye.

My father and I certainly didn’t have a Norman Rockwell relationship. He left my mother when I was 5 or 6. Some years I only saw him once or twice. Dad always took care of me-but he wasn’t necessarily “there” for me. As I grew older we grew closer. He visited more often, doted on the grandchildren, and we talked on the phone more often. Sometimes I was annoyed to have him around-sometimes I anticipated his visits. I often wondered if I would feel anything at all when he died, if I would be sad. Now I know.

Nothing prepares you for the loss of a parent. There is no way to describe to desperate, finite feeling that comes with knowing a piece of you is gone. I don’t think it matters how close you were in life-the loss of a parent signals that you are all alone in this world-you are on your own. And it solidifies, as if there were any doubt, that physical existence is fleeting.

And the saddest things are the little things. My perpetual subscription to Readers Digest, a yearly gift from Dad, will stop coming. I’ll miss the flowers that he sent every birthday and Christmas (an extravagance I would allow from no one but him), and the silly musical cards he sent the kids for every possible occasion. And maybe even more I’ll miss never being able to ask any more questions about family history, the subtleties and details lost forever.

On Saturday I have to attend a memorial service. Dad wasn't big on funerals-the service will be at his home. He was quite pragmatic about death. I know he wouldn't want me to take it too seriously. Still I don't feel ready to say goodbye so for now I will say so long until we meet again.

Grier Yoder in the 1930's


US Air Force Air Traffic Control



Loving Grand Father

Rainbow Prayer Bear-Meet Gabby

My daughter attends a Baptist Preschool. We aren't Baptist-nor do we align ourselves with many of their beliefs however it is a dear sweet school and I feel good about my daughter attending. That was until Saturday-no make it Friday. Friday when my daughter got in the car with an extra school bag. I thought there had been some mistake- perhaps she had grabbed another child's bag. But it wouldn't take me long to understand. My daughter immediately began to explain-with great joy and excitement-that she was the lucky student entrusted with the weekend care of the class mascot "Rainbow Prayer Bear". SHIT! We just aren't the sort of family to be entrusted with anything-let alone a beloved class mascot.

I warned-I scolded-I reminded "keep Rainbow Prayer Bear out of the dogs reach" I said...but really...none of us truly grasped the actual "reach" of our new dog-she can reach anything.

The missing eye and nose are hard to overlook-as well as the long gash along the face. It took Gabby approximately .023 seconds to do this damage.



Well all I can say is thank goodness for EBay. Another bear is on the way-hopefully in time for the next little trustee to take the new and improved Rainbow Prayer Bear home for a weekend visit.

Naked No More

Annabelle now has a lovely dress. I can hardly wait to start on my next doll.

Doll Porn

At least that's what I was thinking as I took these pictures. Perhaps what I should say is: This is my first ever Waldorf doll. I just finished making her and I think she is lovely. I do need to make her a frock-but I'll work on that tomorrow. I am so pleased with her that I couldn't wait to post her photo. My son wants me to make a Shrek doll for him-or perhaps an alien....yeah....I'll work on that next.

This is how she looked last night
She is stuffed with wool and is made with all natural materials. Very crunchy-don't you think.

Big Foot-Little Footprint

Let me preface this by saying I AM NOT bragging. But I am really pleased with myself. Our family has been working very hard to recycle everything we possibly can. We have always felt recycling was a no brainier but we only made an effort to recycle what the trash company collected each week (which wasn't much). A "green" friend of my husband once bragged that she only threw out a small sized bag of trash each week, recycling everything else. I remember thinking "yeah whatever" but it planted a seed in my head.

Currently we recycle a lot-our real goal is to use less but in the meantime we try to recycle every bit of glass, plastic, metal, and paper, batteries, light bulbs, etc in our home. I have had bad composting experiences and I killed all the worms in my worm farm-but I will try again...which leads me to my original point.

Last week we didn't have any trash. OK I am not being perfectly honest-I did throw out a bag of neighborhood trash-things tossed out by some joy riding teens-but I didn't put out any trash from our home. Yea us! And again in honesty I'll admit the kitchen trash can was about 1/3 full and the various other cans around the house had a wee bit of trash-but nothing worth carrying to the curb. I think this was our first ever no-trash week. I hope there are many more to come.

While searching for an image to accompany my post I found the following designer trash bags...I'll leave the commentary to you.

Call Me Paris Hilton

I am concerned about the economy so I have been really watching my spending. I am trying to only buy the necessities, you know, gasoline, groceries, electricity, and puffy pink dog jackets.

Yes, I know they are quite ridiculous. But...Gabby has short hair and I really thought she needed a little something to keep her warm when we walk on cold days. Molly has fur like a Husky-so I really doubt she needs a coat. But seriously....how could I resist? No, wait, don't answer that.

From dog shelter to high fashion

"Gimme a break"

Gabby: "What is this thing"? Molly: "How the heck should I know"

Could it be...

Has it finally happened? I'm not really sure, the last time I had this feeling was March of 2003. My first child was overdue and for weeks I just sat around the house...feeling bored? Could it be? Bored? I wasn't sure I would ever experience this feeling again. Honestly for the first time in nearly six years there is nothing I need to do. Oh sure there are always things that could be done-should be done...but nothing pressing. Nothing I have to accomplish today-nothing for tomorrow, nothing for the foreseeable future. I feel empty inside.

Today I read a whole book-an actual grown-up book with no pictures. I should be thrilled to have a break-thrilled to read more than page at a time between interruptions-but instead of joy it feels a bit more like sorrow.

Usually I am manic with responsibility- errands, PTA, homework, projects, chores. Free time has been a rare and coveted commodity in my life for so long-shouldn't this respite from the grind be welcomed relief? Why do I feel so depressed?

I could ruminate on this for hours but I think the best therapy would be a extra large load of laundry and long walk. Reality and exercise - a sure cure for a boring day.