Saturday, January 10, 2015


My father died seven weeks ago.

He had been sick (another infection) and spent the weekend in the hospital then was discharged to home. Despite his down playing of how serious this last trip to the hospital was, I think he knew this was probably the last trip he'd make out of the hospital. While he was there he was determined to make sure things he promised Chase were handled.

The day before he passed away the last conversation we had together was about how Steve was flying to Texas for work and if Steve could bring him a cow for me and not get arrested for cattle rustling. The last picture I have of him was his first attempt at a selfie while in the hospital.

And then he was gone.

My heart is still broken.

He didn't want a funeral (we will all get together when the weather is better to celebrate his life).

I worry about my stepmother and how lonely she may be. And how Wolfie is.

I miss him so much.

I miss his text messages in the middle of the night when he was up watching classic movies.

I miss sending him text messages during the day and his wit and sense of humor.

My brother and I are closer now. I send him those random text messages.

I dream of him weekly.

I was going to delete this blog, or at least block the posts about him. They just feel so raw.

I know it will get better day by day so I decided to try and blog again.

Today I went to a funeral of a barbershopper that Steve sang with (Steve is in the UP on work). It was the hardest thing I had to do. I sat outside in the 2 degree weather to calm myself down, but I did attend.

I am thankful for my friends.

I wish I knew if my Dad was proud of me.