Coffee with Dad

As I sit here in the quiet of the beginning of my day I’m reminded of my Dad commenting on the coffee being good. Almost every morning he’d say this ‘good coffee’ to my Mom. He loved my Mom’s coffee, mainly because he didn’t have to make it. Their coffee was ready when they got up since the invention of the timed coffee maker.  Today I’m reminded of the time when Dad made coffee so strong I could feel colors. We were in Florida camping in my parents RV in October of 2016 when Dad made a pot of afternoon coffee. Mom had bought Folger’s perfect measure disks. A full pot called for 5 of them and used so many a third of the disks were still intact. Mom and I ran some errands while Dad partook in his daily required nap. When he woke up, he must have needed an extra kick in the caffeine department and filled the container up to the top with the disks. When we got back Dad was waiting for us and pleased with himself for making that pot of coffee for us.  Mom said it made her eyes cross and I could feel the hair growing on my legs, but that was ‘good coffee’. 



The six stages of grief, more like the six stages of hell!!

  • Denial
  • Anger
  • Bargaining
  • Depression
  • Acceptance
  • Longing 

That’s it right there in numerical order for how to get your grieving done properly. I’m not using this list in any particular order. I just go back and forth between them all. Actually, I’m pretty mad at the world most of the time. I’m still shocked that my Dad died. It’s been six months, but I’m hurting worse now. The shock kept me numb and I was living in a bubble. I’ve never been a cry baby but it doesn’t take much to set me off choking back the sobs. My Mom is so emotionally distraught and I can’t help do much for her. I can listen and just be near her. She grieves in private like I do. Probably not the healthiest way to go about it, but I’m just wired this way. All I want is for everything to feel like it used to. But I’m changing into someone I don’t recognize most of the time. My cousin Angie gave me the best advice when Dad first died. She told me to grieve in my own personal way, and not how someone else did it or tells me how to move on. To just take my time and feel everything you’re supposed to feel when your heart is broken. I miss my Dad really bad today.


Always my Dad

“I may not have given you the gift of lift, but life surely gave me the gift of you.” 

It took me year’s to realize that my Dad was my real Dad just not my biological father. He’s the reason I believe that not all men are like the ones who leave their little girls and never come back. I was a difficult teenager and even worse in my early 20’s but Dad never gave up on me. After having my sons in my late 20’s I figured out how to be a good daughter.  

He was my sons only Grandfather, actually he was referred to as ‘my Pap’ by both of his grandsons.  He was completely wrapped around their fingers from the moment of their births until he died. He was an excellent role model for the both of them.  They’re both becoming rock solid young men that their Pap would be proud of. We miss you Pap and you’ll always be with us in our hearts and minds with the best of our memories of you. 


  °by FrostyGurl♥†°