Thanks for Not Talking

Today I am thankful for a request Dad had of me as I was growing up, the request that I not talk during dinner until I was finished eating, because otherwise I would simply sit there, chattering away, and not eat my dinner.   At the time I remember thinking that was such a mean request and how could my dad NOT want to hear my voice? But now as a parent of a chatterbox, and I do mean a chatterbox, I can see why Dad asked that in the first place.

 I'm pretty sure though it wasn't really because I wouldn't eat, it was because my endless talking may or may not have grated on his nerves and he just wanted to eat in peace.  Though I've not yet requested that of the chatterbox in my home, I totally get why he did it.  :)

The Lake

Some of my best memories of growing up are right here in this picture.  Going to the lake with Creeches.  I loved going out on Ken's boat, swimming in the lake water, having picnics on the beach and just watching you and Ken interact.  The two of you together were quite the pair. 

Ken and I spent some time together a few years before he died and it was interesting for me to hear stories as an adult from him about these boating trips.  Interesting to know you guys had a red blanket you passed back and forth between the two couples to use for things I didn't even want to hear about as an adult.  Eww....

It was interesting listening to his stories, his memories of those trips and realizing that your memories were probably very similar to his and how different mine are (thank goodness!). 

It's interesting to me as I look at this picture and realize that Ken is no longer with us, and I think something is not right with the world when Ken Creech is not in it.  This is why Dad, you need to keep fighting.  Something would be very, very wrong in the world if you weren't in it and I don't intend on finding out how that would feel. 

Love you, even though I know about that red blanket thing. 

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....

You...

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

That is all....

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. 

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.

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.

Love,
Kaye