Sunday, October 30, 2011

This Picture???

This picture makes me think of the following things:

1.  I believe it was your 40th birthday.  I remember when you turned 40, I thought it seemed so old back then.  Now it seems pretty damn young.

2.  Please don't ever grow a mustache again.  Thank you.

3.  I thought this picture was so naughty when I saw it as a little girl, because it was a boob cake.

4.  I couldn't understand why you had any interest in boobs, being my dad and all.

5.  For the 80's, your outfit isn't so bad.  Way to show 80's fashion who's boss...

6.  These pictures were in a photo album in our house on Eastview, I remember showing them to my friends so they could see this boob cake.  Then we'd all laugh because again, my dad had a boob cake.

7.  I'm wondering who made this cake? 

8.  This was you before you went bald.  I love you with or without hair, but I think I like bald Dad best.

9.  Why a boob cake?

10.  I recall I thought you must have had a dirty mind to have this cake.  I also thought Mom must have had a dirty mind if she ordered it. 

Love you, Dad.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

My Brother Is Such A Wimp

I don't have much to say about this picture other than to say that Paul was such a wimp, obviously.  Who's scared of Santa, especially when Santa was Uncle Darryl.  Wimp...

Again, how cute of a baby was I?  Seriously....

Tuesday, October 25, 2011


I do not like seeing you itchy and cold all the time.  Keep fighting.  I love you.

That is all....

Monday, October 24, 2011

Drinking Pop, Peanut Butter and Mayo

Dad, take a look at these pictures:

Where do you think I'm going with this post?  If you said, "Peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and pop as a bribe to make two little kids take naps,"  you are correct! 

I think it's funny that some of my favorite memories of growing up are when you were home with us on the weekends and Mom was working at the hospital, because Paul and I always got peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and pop if we took a nap.  This was such a treat to the two little munchkins who you fathered.  I have vivid memories of walking down the stairs after naps and you making us this delicious treat.  The memories were so strong growing up that I just assumed that Mom must have worked every weekend because that's all I can remember.  Being home with Dad, eating those sandwiches and drinking pop.  I just don't remember Mom home much on the weekends (no offense, Mom) because this was such a big deal for me.  It's funny though, isn't it, that evidently Mom didn't work every weekend, she actually worked very little, but this treat of yours made such a big impact  on me that it pretty much beats out every other memory from weekends at home when I was very small. 

Who would have thought that peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and a bottle of pop, which really was just a bribe on your end to get yourself some peace and quiet for a few hours, would turn into one of the best memories of my early childhood?   As I write this, I'm currently in the process of bribing Brady into taking a nap because he's home sick from school.  Only this time I'm using ice cream and not your secret peanut butter and mayonnaise and pop bribe, that bribe's one I'd like to keep as our little thing.

Love you, Dad.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Peas, Peas, Peas

You may be wondering, Dad, why I chose this picture to share?  Well, as I looked at it, I realized I was probably about 18 months old.  I seem to remember, not because I have any known memory of that time, but because it's been shared with me through the years, that 18 months was about the age I was when I dropped my peas on the floor during dinner.  You remember this story, I know, because it's a favorite of yours to remember.  I dropped my peas on the floor because I did not want to eat them, you told me to stop, and I did it again.  You then smacked my hand as a way to teach me not to drop peas on the floor anymore.  My reaction?  Evidently I did not want to talk to you or look at you the rest of the evening.  This in turn, was devastating to you.  Your little girl didn't want anything to do with you all because of a little hand slap. 

The pea incident was the first time I didn't want anything to do with you.  I remember you saying one time when I was in high-school and you and I went to a movie together, on a Friday night nonetheless, that you were so happy I still wanted to do things with you when I could be out of with my friends.   I think it speaks volumes for the bond we had that the only time I truly wanted nothing to do with my dad was when I was a toddler and refused to eat my peas. 

And by the way, peas still suck. 

Thursday, October 20, 2011

When We Became A Family

Do you remember this picture?

I like to think that it's the first one that was taken after our family became complete.  You know, when you added me to it and finally realized what your life had been missing all along; a daughter! (and I'm not going to brag or anything, but man was I a cute baby or what?) 

What I love so much about this picture is your great big smile.  I kid, I kid.  Seriously, what I love about this picture is it documents the start of my life, my life with an older brother who would one day end up being one of my best friends.  My life with a mom who showed me through her strength, that living with a chronic illness doesn't mean your life has to be boring.  My life with you as my dad, the no nonsense man who would never mince words and who I adored as I grew older. 

This picture?  Means the world to me because from this picture on, we built wonderful memories as a family.  Pancreatic cancer will never take those away. 
Love you, Dad.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

My Memory Today and Your Stent Procedure

Dear Dad,

Do you remember the day I was born?  What were you thinking when you saw me for the first time, your little girl with coal black hair just like your own?  Did you think at that moment what life had in store for you now that you were the father to two, but also a father to a daughter?  Did I immediately start being a daddy's girl or did it take me awhile to wrap you around my finger?  Did you know in the moment that I was born that you would have the unconditional love and respect from this little creature for the rest of your life?  What do you remember about that day?

Today, Dad, they will put in a stent to help relieve the jaundice you are experiencing from the cancer.  I told you that you were going to lose your golden glow you've developed recently and we laughed.  I want you to know this, with this first blog post, I will be writing often to share my memories of you.  Today as you prepare for your surgery, know that I love you, that I am so, so proud of you and that I will be with you every step of the way.  This blog is to honor you.  I hope it shows the love I have for you.  Pancreatic cancer could not suck more, but you are a fighter and I truly believe if anyone can beat this, it's you.