Saturday, December 17, 2016

Miss You Daddy

Warning: this will get you in the feels
I... I miss my dad. So, SO much. 

I heard this song on the radio for the first time on my way to work and I started missing my dad something fierce and my heart just...ached. He's been gone for a year and a half now. There's a peace that came from knowing his time on earth was completely out of anyone's control. But even with that peace that doesn't mean grieving and missing stops completely.

Today you could say the simple reason I miss him is because he isn't physically here. But it's not just that. It's the culmination of so many other things his dementia robbed from us. Like:

  • Time. As he declined time had a way of moving incredibly fast while simultaneously standing still. He missed meeting little turkey by a few months. Months. Months that went by in the blink of an eye but felt like my due date would never arrive at the same time.  
  • Words. I emailed my parents a lot before moving to North Carolina with the mundane updates of my life. Turns out it was mostly my dad responding, so as he lost his typing skills (which were never that good to begin with) the emails stopped as well. What I would give to have one more response to my nothings again. And he was never much of a talker but everyone remembers he had the heartiest laugh. Him doubled over laughing at a sceen in Toy Story 2 is one of my favorite memories. I wish I could hear that again even if was because we were making fun of my mom. 
  • Who he was as a person. I consider us lucky he never forgot who we were and that his personality didn't change him into someone mean. But seeing him struggle with numbers when he had a masters in math hurt. He was always able to comfort me with a tight hug, but as I became protective of him I was the one to comfort (I hope). And no one could talk my mom off a ledge like him, but his disease was the ledge.
  • Him becoming the doting grandpa I know he would have been. He was looking forward to the days of "filling them with sugar then sending them home." He also wanted a grandson but so far neither me or my sister have accomplished that one. My kids will never get hug him though. But I'm so happy he was was able to hold and play with his fist grandchild. 
  • Hope. He suffered from a degenerative disease and knowing that is the worst. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.    

I love you Daddy. I hope you knew that and I wish you were here. You live on in memories and stories, and you'll never be forgotten. But I miss you. I miss you a lot.

Wednesday, December 14, 2016


The other day my coworker's husband brought something by for her and they had a quick little peck as he was leaving. I remarked how cute it was and how it reminded me of all the times I had visited dr soc's office and he wouldn't touch me. 😄

Seriously. In his defense at the time he didn't have his school's version of tenure, so by minding his P's and Q's to be as professional as possible he refused pretty much all physical contact whatsoever if on campus together. No peck on the cheek, no hug goodbye, no gentle touch for guidance, no encroachment into either personal bubble. Zero physical contact. He wouldn't even hold my hand.

But now that I have given him a child (and he has tenure) he has relaxed enough to be professionally affectionate. He figured if his coworkers will hug me hello/goodbye, holding my hand on occasion wouldn't professionally ruin him. Not to mention I would have been super pissed (and probably scene causing upset) as I waddled to the baby shower his coworkers threw for us if he had refused to hold my hand when my fingers were too puffy to wear my wedding bands!

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Santa's Bag

Want to hear how I was almost the asshole who ruined Christmas?

Dr soc and I were out to dinner the other night and we were talking about our friends who are going to keep the magic of Santa going for as long as possible since their 10 year old still believes. Which we love and intend to do ourselves because we're both Santa fans.

me: Oh how great! Because I remember how bummed I was when I found out --
--I abruptly stopped--

I realized at that moment there were young kids all around us who may or may not still believe in Santa Claus. And several of them kept looking over towards our table and smiling at the baby because she's adorable. And I had almost let the cat out of the proverbial bag. I beckon to my husband to come closer and in a hushed tone I said we were surrounded by kids and I could have almost ruined Santa. He glances around and a look of understanding crosses his face because, like me, he assumed since our baby doesn't understand 75% of what we saying yet, it didn't occur to us other little ears may be listening either.

So then in a normal voice we continue our conversation but I amend my statement a little.
me: I was so disappointed was when I found out how much my parents helped Santa out.

Phew, 2016 will go down as the year I wasn't the asshole stranger who ruined Christmas for those kids. Because let's be honest, we all remember that asshole who ruined Santa for us. (I eventually figured it out on my own, but admittedly I was pretty slow on the uptake)    

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Dinner Plans

Dr Soc and I worked out our childcare plans so that baby girl goes to daycare two times a week. The other days of the work week he teaches early in the morning and comes home, then I leave for work and those nights I close the library.

That also means those nights dinner is on him. I've been trying to get into the habit of menu planning and can manage a variety of 30ish minute meals, but on nights I close I don't get home until 8:30. One of the last things I want to do is cook, eat around 9 and then put the baby to bed (she nurses to sleep. I know, I have to wean that eventually).

But cooking with baby and quick meals are isn't his strongest wheelhouse. So most Tuesday nights I get the dinner text. Some variation of "dinner ideas?" and I tell him what I'm craving or not, what he can make from the freezer or where to order from.
This was our exchange from the other night:

But I still wanted it, even after recalling that memory. The only reason we didn't have meatloaf that night was because the grocery store didn't have any. And I was bummed too!