Dad had a stroke on Monday.

I guess there’s no other way to start a post like this, just state the fact and let it sit for a minute.

A month ago Cade’s grandma passed away very suddenly and it shook us all. She was so young.

Two weeks later my uncle passed away so, so suddenly. It shook us all.

 

Suffering a stroke

Almost two weeks to the day Dad suffered a stroke. It shook us all.

I found myself whipping open my phone to look at the picture we took two weeks ago.

Remember? Remember how I’d felt so strongly to go to Idaho? It was a quiet, peaceful feeling to go. Mom’s brother passed and I thought, ahhh that hug, the photo I shared on here, that’s why I had felt to go.

And it was.

But this was too.

Dad and I had the most wonderful visit, hands down the best of my whole life with him.

We spent the week alone with dad while mom was away and we talked, laughed, worked in the garden and just loved each other.

One night dad took us to the falls and we picnicked. I told mom later, it had felt important and left a lasting feeling of love in me and my children.

A moment turned into a memory that would carry on through eternity.

The second I received the news I had the sweetest feeling that I had not wasted a moment, I had taken the time to be together and should anything happen he and I, that giant hearted man and I knew we loved each other.

No regrets.

He’s going to be ok. A long road is ahead, but he can do it and there’s good that can come from this.

He has multiple clots they’ve found on the brain, an arm that hasn’t been working, a sagging face which just got an almost all there smile today, an eye that isn’t working and inability to read, but he’s coming along.

 

 

Do you know, it’s actually my dad that my first memory of cooking is with. I vividly remember sitting on the counter and dad teaching me how to make oatmeal raisin chocolate chip cookies.

Two weeks ago I had to run to the store while visiting dad and I came home to the kids making those same cookies with grandpa.

I hadn’t seen him make those cookies since I was living at home.

Stop to Take It All In

It stopped me in my tracks and for once as a busy mom I took it all in.

I can’t describe it, almost like little bubbles of energy all over in the air. It was electric and a feeling to take it all in was written in every turn of the mixer.

So I did.

And they did.

And it was magic.

One of My Greatest Treasures

A few months ago I had my parents to the house and Jessica Kettle spent all day taking pictures of us in the kitchen together. I told mom that night, “I feel that this will be one of my greatest treasures. I don’t know why, but these photos mean something and one day will mean everything to me.”

My Dad

Dad didn’t cook much growing up.
Waffles with ice cream.
Cheesy scrambled eggs with a dusting of powdered sugar.
Weirdo peanut butter pickle sandwiches I refuse to try.

And he traveled. A lot.
And he was a bishop of our local church.

But man, when dad was home, he was home. Totally present.

I hope that I can live in the good feelings and not just one day remember them and wish there were more.

Live with the Light On

Living and loving regardless of circumstances is possible.
I promise.
Through two years of unemployment, through three Hyperemesis Gravidarum pregnancies, and many more trials, I’ve learned that the darkness may come but there’s a light inside that no one can turn off, the catch is, you have to remember it’s there.

This week has been a reminder to live with the light on.

And can I step on my soap box? Next time you need family photos, ditch the perfect clothes and location, invite the grandparents over and just let someone capture moments of everyone together.

It is the best.

Tell Me About Your Dad

Now lighten the mood, tell about your dad and his cooking skills or anything. No dad? Tell me about whoever was important.

Please.

Trust me, there’s a lot of you hurting, we all need to connect w/each other.

 

I believe in him.

He’s always believed in me.

Love you, dad. Always have. Always will. We have lots of memories to come.