A Poem for Dad

Early last year, I began writing a poem for my Dad. I wanted to do something special for him for Father's Day. My father was a man like no other. He loved everybody and he never judged. Even if he didn't like you, you'd never know it. He helped anyone he could. He gave me and my brother a great childhood, we rarely wanted for anything. He took such good care of my mother. He taught me so many valuable lessons, which at the time, seemed useless. But as I have gotten older, I have found the lessons and advice prove to be more useful than, I think, he even realized they would be. I wanted to honor that and him.

He unfortunately passed away before I completed it. I was too heartbroken over losing him and too overwhelmed with a new baby that I couldn't even fathom the thought of finishing it in time for Father's Day. But over the last few months, I have given it a second look and have finally completed it with an alternate ending.

So, this is for you Dad. A little something to tell you how much you mean to me and how lucky I am to have you as my Dad. I love and miss you always.

A Poem for Dad

A little girl's daddy is her first love. 

He is the man that will raise the bar for all other men that come into her life. 

He is her first protector. 

She will love him unconditionally and look up to him. 

She looks to make him proud. 

He teaches her. 

He teaches her the lessons she needs to take care of her self and protect herself. 

He teaches her to use her hands, to fix her car and install a new faucet. 

He guides her. 

He guides her in the direction that can best protect her and make her better than him. 

But when she chooses her own path, he is there to cheer her on when it goes well. 

And he's there to pick up the pieces and set her straight when she falls. 

He loves her. 

She will defy him, disappoint him and make him mad. 

She will make him happy and proud. 

Through it all, he loves her. 

He lets her go. 

He gives her to another man with faith that he has taught her well. 

That she has chosen the right man. 

That he has taught her as much as he can to make her successful in her own life. 

He watches her.

He watches her manage her own life, making her own way in the world. 

He watches her build a home with her husband. 

He boasts with pride when she begins a family of her own. 

He watches her raise that family the best she can with all the tools he has given her. 

He dies. 

But even in death, he will continue to protect, teach, guide and love her. 

He still watches her. 

Dear Dad: One Year Later

Dear Dad, 

It's hard to believe that you've been gone a year already. Most days, I still can't believe it. Never in a million years did I think that we'd have to say goodbye to you so soon. To me, you were the man who could never die. There was nothing that you couldn't make it through. I never considered that someday, you wouldn't be here. 

That day haunts me. At the time, it went by in a complete blur. But as the year has gone on, little things come back when I least expect them to, like when I drive past the hospital or hear a beep that sounds like one of the machines. I remember staring at the flat line hoping for even the slightest movement. But it never came. I remember telling everyone that I thought you were okay and then had no idea how I was going to tell them you were gone. I don't even know how or when everyone got there, but it seemed like I turned around and there they were. I see you laying there, lifeless. The man that I called Dad for 34 years, was gone, just like that. No chance to say goodbye, no chance to tell you everything that I would have wanted you to know. 

I hope that in your final moments you knew how loved you were, not just by us, but by everyone who ever knew you. We hated you being gone so much, but we knew everything you did, you did for us; to give us the life you thought we deserved. The lessons you taught me are ones that have molded who I am. When I do something around the house, I'm proud to say I know how to do this because "I'm Wally's daughter". Whether I was right or wrong, you always supported my decision. You let me learn, but we're always there to help me get back on my feet. You might throw in a sly, "I told ya so", but always with the best intentions. If we called you and needed you, you were there. If you could help someone, you did. You were the best. 

Losing you has left a Dad-shaped hole is my heart. Mom is the glue that holds us together, but you were our rock. No matter what job needed to be done or what advice we might need, you always seemed to have the right tool or the right answer. You were everyone's go-to guy. 

I know you are always near. And when I get that gut feeling that something just isn't right or I should make a certain choice, that's when I feel your guidance. I know it sounds silly. But I'm half of you, we'll always have a connection. I don't take those feelings lightly, I know it's you helping me through life. Then there's those times that your song pops up on my iPod, or I smell your cologne. Or when Ryan looks at your picture and smiles. I know he knows you, I don't know how, but he does. In some ways, that little boy is so much like you. When he's concentrating he puckers his lips and scrunched his eye brows, just like you did. He even has your weird toe. How I wish you were here to meet him. You would have gotten a kick out of him. You were so proud to have 4 grandsons. And they were so unbelievably lucky to have you. I know you helped make sure Ryan was okay. 

Brandon talks about you a lot. Sometimes I cry and he says to me, "don't cry mom, he's always with us". He's wise beyond his years. He's growing up so fast. I'm so happy he got almost 5 years with you and I hope he always remembers you. I'll never forget how proud you were the first time you held him. And the first time we came to the boat, you paraded him all over the marina. 

Nothing is quite the same anymore. There are times when I have gone to pick up the phone to call you or I'll say, "Dad would like this". I still watch the planes fly over and wonder if that one is yours. 

Time is now measured in "before Dad"and "after Dad" and nothing will be like before again. 

I miss you so very much. Thank you for always loving me and teaching me the things I'd need to learn through life, you just never taught me how to do this without you. 

I love you, Dad. Until we meet again...

Throwback Thursday - June 12, 2014

Dad's 57th birthday dinner at Benihana

Although this picture isn't too much of a throwback, it only dates back to October 2013, it has become a picture that I hold very close to my heart.

Dad discovered Benihana many many years ago when he was working in Detroit, Michigan. Every year for his birthday, the only thing he wanted was to have dinner at Benihana and we all looked forward to it every year; the food was good and we had a great time together. And each year we took another family photo. We would joke how each year the family grew and soon, we would take up more than one table.

This is the last family photo we ever took. And ironically, we came to realize that it is the only photo of our entire family; all 4 grandsons included. In this photo, my sister-in-law was pregnant with their second child, and this was taken 2 weeks before we found out we were pregnant with our second. So, it is the only photo we will ever have of the entire family.

Looking at these pictures is sometimes hard. We were all so happy, we were all together. We were all smiling. But I am happy that we were able to capture these memories to look back on and remember the wonderful times that we have had and how wonderful of a man my dad was.

I miss him every minute of every day, but I know that he will always be here to watch over us, protect us and guide us, just like he always did. In like, he did everything he did for us and I know he will do that in death as well.

Throwback Thursday - June, 5, 2014

To sit and write a post this week for Throwback Thursday is a tough one. So much has happened since my last post. It is nearly impossible to decide exactly what to write about, so this week is a throwback for the last couple of weeks.

Pregnancy News

On May 13th, I went in for a growth scan. Basically, the sono tech measures pockets of amniotic fluid  and takes measurements on the femur, stomach and head to assess how well the baby is growing. After the tech took the baby's stats, she determined that we was a little on the small side, weighting in around 2 pounds 14 ounces. This sent me on a trip down to the perinatologist for a doppler scan. The doppler scan measures the blood flow through the baby's organs, the placenta and the umbilical cord. Although the tech there measured him around 3 pounds, he was still small. He should have been measuring closer to 3 1/2 pounds. The reason for his growth restriction was that he wasn't receiving the nutrients he needed through the cord because it was restricted. The exact same problem I had with my first pregnancy. My OB and perinatologist decided I would have a scan to check the fluid and a Non-Stress Test every 3-4 days to monitor the baby's health. The test itself was stressful because I knew what they were looking for, I had been down this road before, almost exactly 5 years ago. They wanted to see if his heart rate went up or down during movement. Up is good, down is bad.   I knew what a lowered heart rate meant and during each NST, I prayed I never heard a dip. Any day could be the day and it scared the shit out of me. I was only 31 weeks when they started to monitor me, I delivered my first son at 33 weeks and 1 day gestation. I was quickly approaching that mark. 

I Lost My Dad

On May 16, 2014, I got a call from my mom just after I dropped my son off at school. Dad wasn't breathing and they were taking him to the hospital. She was watching my nephews and was waiting for my brother or sister-in-law to get there. I told her I would head over to the hospital and call her when I knew anything. My cousin had spent the night at my parents house the night before. He heard my father fall and when the dog started howling, he rushed up from downstairs and called 911. I gave the hospital as much information I could while I waited for someone to tell me what was going on. A nurse came out to talk to me and my cousin. I knew it wasn't good that she walked out with a wheelchair for me. She brought us into another room where she explained that they were still working on him and she prepared me for what I was going to see. I tried to stay calm, after all, I was 32 weeks pregnant and put on the "premature birth watch list". She wheeled me into the room where the doctors were trying all they could to bring my dad back. I held his hand and asked him not to leave us, I told him that we needed him. I told him I still needed my daddy. I asked him, I begged him to come back to us. He was our rock and we still needed him. But nothing I said worked. After 29 minutes, the doctor informed me that they did all they could do, but he had been deprived of oxygen too long. They had to stop. I wanted to be one of those people that throw themselves on the table and screamed, to shake sense into the nurses and doctors to keep going, to start CPR myself. But I knew I couldn't. I knew he would never want to live that way. I knew what he could be like if he had been brought back. I couldn't argue. I remember hearing the doctor officially call it. 9:29am on May 16, 2014, my dad died. My life would change, my heart broke. The days that followed were a complete blur. They were filled with arrangements, gathering photos, making videos, ultrasounds and NST. Praying that any pregnancy problems would hold themselves off until at least after Dad's funeral. The NST the morning of the wake was particularly, um, stressful. And of course doing my best to stay calm and rest according to doctor's orders. 

I was going through the motions, but just couldn't believe it was happening. Did I really just lose my dad? My dad died. Words I thought wouldn't have to leave my lips for 20 or more years. He still had so much more to do, another grandchild to see, the rest of his life to spend with his wife, kids and their families. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I never truly considered life without him, I just assumed he would always be there. I still wait for him to call and ask for a hair cut. The pain of losing a parent, is pain I have never felt before. It felt like someone put and oozy to my chest and pulled the trigger. There was a hole. A big huge hole. Little things make me cry; a song on the radio, seeing his truck in the driveway, his funeral card hanging on my dresser mirror. He was an amazing man and we are all going to miss him immensely. But he will remain in my heart forever. 

We Had a Baby!

On May 27, 2014, I went in for my ultrasound and NST. I should have known something was wrong, but I suppose I could have been in denial. The sono tech measured my fluid less that half of what it was a week prior. Not good news. The doctor said to repeat the ultrasound after my NST is complete. So, my mother-in-law and I headed down to the hospital. They hooked me up to the monitors like every other time. I still believed that everything was fine. Then I heard it. The heart rate dropped. In the blink of an eye, there were 3 nurses in my room. Now I started getting nervous. They hooked me up to IV fluids "just in case". My MIL called my husband and he was on his way. I laid there hoping this wasn't happening that day. It was Tuesday and Saturday was my son's big Star Wars 5th birthday party. After my OB called the perinatologist, they decided it was best that my OB delivered. It was happening, I was having a baby, 33 weeks and 3 days. Here we go again. I was nervous, I was scared. I was in shock. 

My husband made it just in time. Thank goodness. I got prepped and wheeled into the OR as he was getting in his scrubs. Ugh, the epidural. I was much more calm going into this one. I guess cause I knew what to expect. I laid down in the table and watched the door waiting for my husband to walk through. I breathed a deep sigh of relief when I saw him. Although I could only see his eyes, I knew everything was going to be okay. He sat by my side and we talked. We talked normally like we were sitting having a cup; of coffee. Before I knew it, I heard my baby cry. And boy did he cry. It was the most amazing sound. They took him over to get vitals and clean him up. And still he cried. Then I saw him. That little itty bitty face sticking out from all the blankets he was swaddled in. I never thought I could love another baby as much as I love my first, but in that instant, my heart was bursting with love for both of my boys. My heart was full. My beautiful baby was here at just 3 pounds 5.9 ounces and 16 inches long. 

May 27, 2014

My husband followed the baby while the doctors finished up and then I was wheeled to recovery. I laid there watching the clock. 1 hour in recovery and they would wheel me down to see my boy. They rolled me down in the bed to the Special Care Nursery. He was so tiny. So very tiny. My first was smaller by 2 ounces. But time will skew your memory. I got to hold him. He was so small, so fragile. I couldn't believe this was happening again. But, as with my first, he was healthy. 

The last 9 days have been roller coaster. A busy roller coaster. Managing 2 kids in 2 different places, giving both attention, but knowing that Ryan needs his rest. I'd be there all day every day if I could. He needs to grow. He is doing well. As of last night he weighed in at 3 pounds 9.5 ounces. He is maintaining his temperature in the isolette and eating well. He's up to 32ml every 3 hours, which is just over an ounce. At 4 pounds they will transfer him to an open crib and see if he maintains his temperature for at least 48 hours. If he does, he will be on his way home! 

June 5, 2014

Throwback Thursday - May 1, 2014

Me, Mom and Dad 

This picture was either from the Fall of 1980 or the Spring of 1981. 

My Mom and my Dad are 2 of the most amazing people that I know. They taught me many lessons throughout my life. At the time I don't think they knew that they were even teaching me. I also didn't fully understand these lessons until I became a parent myself. 

My parents were married very young, just 19 and 22 years old. And no, it wasn't because of me, LOL. Just 3 years later, I was born and 3 years after that, my brother. They were in their late 20's and early 30's when they packed us up and moved us an hour away from family to our very own home. Back then, for some reason, an hour away seemed like an eternity. They did this to provide my brother and I with the life they felt we deserved. A home of our own, a yard to play in, our own bedrooms, a good school. 

I've been told there were nights my parents went without so we could eat. They both worked hard to give us everything we needed and as much of what we wanted as they could. We were their world and every step and every breath they took was for us. 

Now that I am a parent myself, I understand them more than I ever thought I would. I understand the long hours they put in beyond their jobs and long after we had gone to bed. I never understood how they seemed to get everything done. Now I do. 

I understand now the desire to give your children the very best of everything and the frustration that comes with not always being able to deliver. 

I understand the worry they felt when we got sick or hurt. And I'm sure one day I will pace the floor worried when my babies haven't come home yet. I will understand that their worry was projected as anger and that's why they yelled. 

I understand why I was given the freedoms to choose my own path, even when they thought it was wrong and I am grateful for all the times I fell and they were there to pick me back up again. I'm also thankful to have them there to celebrate with me when things went right. 

And now that I am married and have my own children, I think they understand me better too. They are finally able to see what all their hard work has done and the adults that those little babies have turned out to be. 

I will never be able to fully express how grateful I am for my parents and everything they have done for me, everything they have taught me and everything that they sacrificed the last 34 years of my life. All I can hope is that I have made them proud and I have lived up to all the hopes and dreams they had for me from the very first time they laid eyes on me.