Thursday, May 30, 2013


If you've been around here awhile, I'm sure you'll remember hearing me mention my Dad.  I think I talk about him a lot, because he's a huge part of my life.  Or at least he was.  Dad passed away two weeks ago, on May 16th.  It was sudden, and unexpected, and unfair, and too damn soon.  Stupid aneurysm. 
He was born in '47, so in his 67th year, as they say, but always 17 at heart.

He taught me so much- how to butcher, how to hunt, how to garden, how to build, how to drive, how to live.  I still had so much to learn.  The boys had so much to learn.  They were just getting started, figuring out what an amazing man their Grandpa was.

There's so much more I want to write, I want to tell the story of this amazing man.  But I can't.  Not right now.  It hurts too much.  Maybe someday I'll be able to tell his stories.  Right now, everything I do reminds me of my Dad.  Everywhere I go reminds me of my Dad.  I still can't believe he's gone.

So I haven't been wring.  I haven't been doing much.  My heart is broken, and my head is stuck in a permanent fog.  My heart just isn't in it this year.  I do what I have to to get through each day, and I putter here and there.  Milk and cream sit souring in the fridge.  I can't get it together to make cheese and butter.  Dad's never going to taste my cheese.  The garden should be planted.  I barely spend any time in the greenhouse.  There's so much work to do, and I just want to crawl under a rock.

I want my daddy back.


  1. Oh Wendy! I'm so sorry! Major hugs. I've been where you are and it is an everything pain...every where you look, everything you's blinding. I remember being angry at him for dying so suddenly & not giving us warning. there was still so much to say, so much to do....then ashamed and angry at myself for being angry at him...I still smell his pipe tobacco now at times when I'm stressed. I wish you peace and comfort in your memories & will be sending healing thoughts and prayers your way.

  2. Wendy,
    I am so sorry to hear of his death! I know. I have been there. However, mine died a slow, agonizing death that was hard to watch and did nothing to prepare me for the finality of it all. Cancer is not nice. Both my parents are dead. I remember the fog I was in and how everything reminded me of them. I remember having so many things I still wanted to ask them.

    Pour out the milk for the animals. Chickens like sour milk. Don't fret over it. It's okay. You will recover in your own time.

    I do remember all the times you talked about him and how he taught you to butcher. I remember the times you said he came there or you called him to ask him something. Even with all the warning we had, I still had things to ask Daddy and Mama. I still did not find out how to live, not without her.

    It's been over 20 years and it still hurts but not so often and not so deep. The ragged hole is smoothed out a bit. But, nothing can ever fill it or mend it. I hated my children had to lose their grandparents while my children were so young.

    Wendy, I know it is no consolation, but your father was not in pain, and if so, not for long. I had to live for six years with Daddy dying in horrible pain and thirteen watching Mama in pain and dying. But, I cannot wish they went quickly even though I did not like what was happening.

    Tell us when it feels right to you.

    I miss stories about your animals and pictures of them.

    Hugs from Alabama,

  3. I am so very sorry! I'll pray for you. My dad passed away in 1969 at 55, and I still miss him so every day. He only saw my oldest son, and missed out on so very much with his short life. Yours looks so kind and "cool!" (in the first picture). Hugs for your loss, I'm just so sorry.

  4. Wendy - this is heartbreaking and you need to allow yourself a grieving period. you have to stop pressuring yourself with everything that should be done or needs to be done and say to yourself "i am not ready for much of anything right now. i need to grieve." - because that is what is most important right now.

    there are no words to say that will make you feel better although both ladies' comments above really tried. you will bounce back but only when you are ready. grieving takes time.

    you have shared your amazing dad with us here and you can continue to do so. tell us more stories about him. tell us all of your fondest memories. but only when you are ready.

    please know that jambaloney and i are sending healing thoughts and prayers your way.

    your friend,

    1. Actually, Wendy, I was not trying to make you feel better. I was saying I understood and that it takes a long time to feel normal again, to take it easy on yourself. That's all.

      More hugs from Alabama,

  5. Wendy,I am so very sorry for your loss. (HUG)

  6. I've been following your blog for a long time, but am guilty of not commenting when I should, but today I just have to say that I am so sorry for your loss. Sending virtual hugs your way.


  7. Aww, Wendy. I do so feel your loss. My dad passed a year ago this month. I remember it being such a tender time. There are still tender moments. Like now, reading your post. I am sorry.

    I know it hurts. It does get better eventually. So, let the milk sour and the garden go for now. You need to grieve, sweet lady. Be gentle with yourself. xoxoxo Sue

  8. I'm sorry you lost your Father, Wendy.