“Thinking about my Dad”

I often procrastinate, usually justify it or rationalize why I have no time to blog since my Dad died unexpectedly. He collapsed on January 3, 2017 around noon and that’s actually when his soul left us for a better place than here. His body died on January 7, 2017. His broken body remained behind here on Earth, but it wasn’t the Dad I knew and loved. His soul was housed in a shell that was his human body. His soul didn’t die, but his shell was too broken to continue life as we knew it to be.

My grief is unbearably private, lonely and cannot be said out loud for fear of choking on my screams or the inability to stop them. My life completely changed in less than three minutes, but it took four days for my Dad to have his final peace. We had a priest come and read the sacrament of the sick and dying, also known as The Last Rites, which comforted my Grandma with her religion. I might have bungled the name of the prayer, but I know his sisters also said their rosaries. These timeless acts of religion done in devotion in the name of love were from their lips to God’s ears.

The only way I deal with everyday decisions is by doing things the way my Dad always told me about “how to get things done.”

Here’s a few of my Dad’s life lessons:

1) To be a better person today than I was yesterday, and pray to be even better tomorrow.

2) To always help someone in need because there may not be anyone else who will or can do a good deed just because it needs to be done.

3) Be understanding and thoughtful with your words, not all scars are visible.

4) Always be kind to others since you haven’t walked in any shoes but your own.

My Dad was a junior high school science teacher, head coach of the varsity football team and coached various other sports over his years before he retired for a rural county school corporation on the south end of Henry County, Indiana. He was a valued mentor for students and football players who were considered “his kids”. One was a girl he called Jethro. They didn’t always want to hear what had to say to them, but they still listened to his words of wisdom from years of life experience. Those pearls of wisdom to those he called his own, will be remembered for the rest of their lives.

He helped and encouraged students, sports players and young adults both on or off the football field or in and out of his classroom. My Dad was a rock solid man and he was my hero. Sometimes a hero to people only Dad knew about.  Often times he took kids under his wing whether they knew it or not at the time is unclear except for the love and respect that has been shown to him in life as well as in death. I didn’t realize just how many lives my Dad touched till after the stories we heard at the funeral home, and the private memories shared with my Mom, Grandma and I.
My Dad was a respected, honorable and was a dignified man in a plethora of ways. He also a hoot and trickster. He loved a good prank and funny jokes. On rare occasion, or Crown Royal, he could be an offensive ass with a wicked sense of humor. He was extremely funny without trying and usually didn’t realize it until after the fact.

I can almost hear him in my mind, but sadly I’m forgetting how his voice sounded. Knowing he’s in a better place now and waiting for us where it’s not hard to be his old self makes it somewhat easier on my heart. Like he was before his stroke with no struggles or worries and no more constant pain. He’s got a cooler full of ice cold Bud Light on his golf cart on an exotic course somewhere warm with all those that passed on before he did. He’s in good company with his crooked little smile on his face and laughing about how life isn’t fair. Life had taken my Dad to exotic, far away places he thoroughly enjoyed visiting while on his travels while he served in the US Navy on the USS Bainbridge as a navigator during the Veitnom conflict.  I’ll never get to venture to any of them, but I remember how happy he was when spoke of the places he visited during that time of his life. He continued his travels with my Mom. They went from Indiana to Florida,  Washington down through California back through the Colorado Rockies and a Mexican cruise. Even with all the advancements made in medical sciences and the new technologies developed daily they couldn’t help my Dad so he could fight the good fight one more time.  You see, his broken body had suffered previously from too much trauma. He’d had multiple heart attacks, an arterial stroke in his brain and he cheated death three times.  It just wasn’t in his destiny to stay here any longer with us and he didn’t want to leave us. If it was his choice, then he’d have stayed with us.





“Solar Eclipse and remembering my Dad”

My Dad was a science teacher. He loved everything about the space program and our solar system. Today he would have been so excited about the partial solar eclipse in our area. My brother and I shared the experience together in memory of our Dad. Before he retired from teaching, he always had his classes watch The Right Stuff and From the Earth to the Moon. His students looked forward to seeing both of them every year.  Where we live in 2024 we’ll be able to see a total eclipse and I’m looking forward to seeing it and thinking how Dad would love every minute of it. 

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♥†°

Dad’s yard

Today I’m going to to mow the yard like Dad is an angel on my shoulder. He took great pride in his yard. He worked hard at keeping the lawn mowed and looking beautiful with well kept flower beds, shrubs and trees.

My Mom and I have been trying to keep up with all of it. I had a total knee replacement surgery on June 5, 2017. I just got released by my surgeon to use the riding mower. Today I’m going to be a better person than I was yesterday and make my Dad proud of me.



Living life while grieving

Living life on life’s terms, not my terms. It’s been difficult to get used to how it is now since my Dad’s unexpected death. Life does go on no matter how hard it is to get through the day. The Earth didn’t stop revolving around the sun for me to grieve for him. I’m lucky to have been his daughter and remind myself of it every day. My biological father forgot me over 40 year’s ago. My Mom married her husband when I was 15 year’s old. That man chose to be my Dad. He loved me when I couldn’t love myself. That’s what made him my real Dad. He was a great Dad and an awesome Pap to my two sons. These are the things I remember when I’m really missing him. I know it wasn’t his choice to leave us just God’s plan for him.