Letter to My Dad on the 5th Anniversary of his Death

When I think of the time that separates me from you, part of me still struggles to believe it’s real. Somehow step by step, day by day, I’ve continued on without you for five years. Five years. Half a decade. The world has been devoid of you for that long, and on days like today, I struggle to see how it keeps spinning without you. Lately, I’ve been looking at pictures of you and wishing I could fall back through time into the moment they depict. Just fall through time and be gone. I guess, with all that’s been going on, nothing about that is surprising. I’m still struggling with the feeling that I don’t want to do this without you. I feel like others expect me to have gotten past that now. Five years is a long time. I should be used to having to face the world without you, but I’m not. A song lyric comes to mind: “What’s left is only bittersweet / For the rest of my life / Admitting the best is behind me.” I identify with that so much it’s not funny. The singer is talking about the death of his mother, and the first time I heard that lyric, I had such a deep sense of relief and comfort to know that there is at least one other person on this planet that understands what I feel. I suppose it’s a sad line, but I don’t feel sad when I hear it. It makes me contemplate how to carve out a good and happy life when I know that everything will be tinged with sadness. Your legacy is so large, and it is such a privilege to be one of its heirs. I thank God every day for bestowing on me the honor of having been your daughter. Everyone has a father, but most didn’t get you. From the moment I wake to the time I fall asleep (and even in my dreams), it is on my mind how to live in such a way to make you proud. I don’t always succeed, but I always try. I’m still trying to rearrange the pieces of myself in the wake of the devastation your loss left behind. You were such a large part of what made me who I am that parts of me are gone forever. I’m still sorting through and figuring out what can be salvaged. It’s been a difficult five years. Our family has had a lot of anguish. I understand now in ways I wish I didn’t how people become bitter and hard. Life can take your smile away. It’s been trying to take mine in so many different ways since you died. It’s a battle I continue to fight. I’m generally fairly happy, but my smiles are more hard-won now. I still hold fervently to the belief that kindness is one of the greatest things. That is a lesson you taught me every day. There’s so much I miss that I can’t think about it too much or I get lost in it. I miss your joy. I have happiness in my life, but no one is you. I miss the introspective sadness you had and let so few see.  I miss your patience with me and the genuine affection you had for me. You made me feel like I was enough, and I feel despair at the thought of having to find that feeling on my own. I miss road trips where we talk for hours about everything and nothing. I miss who I got to be when you were around. I miss… well, what don’t I miss? I’ve always been verbose in my writing, and this letter is no exception. I’ve typed hundreds of words when I could have typed just three and said the same: I miss you. I miss you: three tiny words filled with vast worlds of emotion and memory. I miss you, Daddy.

And I'm Back...

Last year, I got a job as a teacher, and it inspired me to revive this blog. However, as it tends to do, life got in the way for months and months. It took awhile, but here it is--revamped and renamed. I thought about blogging solely about teaching, but that felt too limiting. So, I will talk about teaching, cakes, entertainment, scrapbooking, travel, and aunt-as-parent-ing, among other things. I hope something I write will strike a chord with someone. I'm currently enjoying my first summer as a teacher, so I should have plenty of time to work out any bugs before school ramps up again. I hope to have things worked out pretty well by then.

I will be back in a couple of days with a post about my summer plans with my nieces. Stay tuned!

Alcatraz!

Well, my lack of Internet access has certainly sent my posts to a screeching halt. BUT, I just found out that my local library has free wi-fi and is open until 7 pm. Can you say 'awesome?' Hopefully I will be back on a regular basis for the foreseeable future.

Now that I'm back, the question is: Where to begin? I think I'll begin with accomplishments. Back in July, I managed to cross not one but two things off my 30 Before 30 list. For this post, I will only talk about my visit to Alcatraz. I also made it to my third concert of the year, but as I am going to a fourth this Friday, I will wait and post about it after I get back from that.

(Right off the boat)

 

So, Alcatraz. A group of friends and I went to San Francisco in July for a week of fun, and our last tourist activity was a tour of Alcatraz on Friday afternoon. We originally had wanted to see it earlier in the week, but it didn't work out. It turned out better that we had to wait. After a week of being together, some on the trip were a little tired of, well, being together. Alcatraz afforded the perfect opportunity to break away from the group (which is what I did when I got tired of frayed tempers). There was a lot about Alcatraz that I didn't know. Did you know that there are beautiful gardens on the island? That it used to be a fort? That Native Americans staged a sit-in on it in the 60's? Well, now you do!

(Sigh. Why do I do that with my hands in pictures?)

 

The weather was beautiful on the day we went--sunny and cool. We couldn't have had better weather if we ordered it. My initial impression upon disembarking from the ferry was surprise; I didn't expect the island to be so...rundown. It was neat, don't get me wrong, but I was a little disappointed if I'm being honest. We started the trek up to the prison, and I couldn't help but be a little dismayed thinking I had built the place up to impossibly high expectations.

(Remnants of one of the buildings)

 

 

But, then we got to the jail, and the experience became everything I hoped it would be. If you ever find yourself on Alcatraz, I highly recommend that you take the audio tour of the prison. I had my doubts but found it to be engaging and interesting.

 

(An inmate had fashioned a bar spreader that led to an almost successful escape attempt)

Eventually, I split off from everyone in my group and headed for the gardens. I think I was the only one of us to traverse every single sidewalk visitors were allowed on. What can I say? I had anticipated Alcatraz for months and months, and I was going to take in as much of it as I could. Instead of backtracking when the sidewalk ran out, there was a set of steep stairs that led to the recreation yard. I took them and then wound back through the prison eventually making my way back to the dock. I parked myself and my bag of souvenirs on a bench and enjoyed the cool breeze. It took quite a while for the group to find their way down.

(My favorite plant in the gardens)

The families had joined up with the couple at some point, so I was the only one missing from the group by the time they made it to the dock. One of the little girls spotted me and came running over. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “I haven’t seen you in so long.” Then another of the girls came over, climbed in my lap, and eventually went to sleep. I wish I could capture in words that feeling of being together with people and simultaneously apart. In that moment, I felt content with myself and the world. It was a very good day.

(View of San Francisco from Alcatraz)

And now my favorite picture of the Alcatraz tour, taken on the ferry ride home. The flag lined up perfectly, and I was there to take the shot. Seeing it makes me wish I were still on that ferry enjoying the cool breeze in my face.

 

That's all, folks! Thanks for reading.

Walk a Mile In Her Shoes

I have been without Internet access for some time. Now that I have a few minutes, I thought I would share some pictures from the "Walk a Mile in Her Shoes" event that I went to a few weeks ago. The organizers were retiring the pink pumps that my dad wore last year in the premiere walk, so several members of my family showed up for the ceremony. I am so glad I went to this event as it was a lot of fun and for a good cause. If you have one of these events in your area, I encourage you to go.

These are the pink pumps that Daddy wore last year.

My uncle (second from the right) did the walk this year.

My brother and my baby niece at the event.

Cambrie cheered on the walkers. She had a ball at this event.

Our town's new pavilion. As you can see, lots of people came out to show their support for the event.

I absolutely love this picture of my niece Kyleigh.

And Miss Cambrie cheesing it up.

This is a picture of my dad in the pink pumps from last year. What can I say? I miss him every day.

I hope that I soon get my Internet back up and will be able to post more frequently.

OKC Bombing Remembered

I don't know where you were on April 19, 1995, when the Oklahoma City Bombing happened. I was in class in my elementary school. I didn't know until later in the day what had happened, but I remember staying home from church that night (that's how I remember it was a Wednesday) and watching the footage on TV. It really affected me. I spent months after collecting every story I could find about it. I still have the book I made of all of the newspaper articles.

I had been in Oklahoma City the August before the bombing and walked right past the federal building without paying it any mind. My dad was on the school board at my school, and every August we went to Oklahoma City for the convention. That particular year, there was a Fun Walk/Run that went right past the Murrah Building. At the time, I had no way of knowing I would be back to that place many, many times in the coming years. Every year when we went to the convention, my dad made it a point to visit the bombing site. It was weird to be there the August after the bombing and realize that I had walked by that area and never paid it any attention. I have all of these memories of all of the different stages of the site and the construction of the memorial they built on the site. Since I usually only saw it once a year, the changes were always quite drastic and noticeable. I remember the rubble with the fence around it and all the messages and all the stages between then until it got to be as it is now.

I know many people who have never been to the memorial. I can't count the number of times I've gone. I don't go every time I am in Oklahoma City, but I go most times I am there overnight. I've gone in the morning, in the afternoon, at night, in the cold, in the blazing heat. I've never left it where I was anything other than glad that I went. One of the coolest memories I have of a trip to the bombing memorial was one of the last school board conventions I went to. I was already in college but I drove up from Dallas to meet my parents. It just so happened that it was the 100th anniversary of Harley Davidson motorcycles that year and we just so happened to be there when the big motorcycle tour they were doing was in town. They had an all-bike rally (or whatever it's called...I know there was a term) and there were thousands of motorcycles in Bricktown. One of the bikers that my dad talked to happened to mention that all the bikers were going to get on their bikes after the festivities were over and ride to the memorial. It was after dark before they started getting ready to ride. My dad, my mom, and I walked over to the memorial before the ride and watched as the plaza was surrounded by all the motorcycles. It was a sight to behold. And then all the bikers piled off of the bikes and we joined them in walking around the memorial. If you ever find yourself near Oklahoma City with a bit of time to spare, I recommend that you find your way to the memorial. Here are a few of the pictures I took the last time I visited the memorial when my brother and I were in town to clean out Daddy's office at the capitol last November.

Butterflies!!

For the last few days, butterflies have been fluttering around the flowering tree in my front yard. I have enjoyed them immensely, so I thought I would share.

Sandhill Peach Pound Cake

Recently I bought the magazine Southern Cakes that Taste of the South put out. After flipping through it, I wanted to make probably more than half of the cakes. I settled on a Sandhill Peach Pound Cake because my mom likes peaches, and I ended up being surprised by how much I liked it. The flavor of the cake was great. I highly recommend it.