Halloween

Short and Sweet......just a few pictures to commemorate Halloween 2009:

Our front yard/graveyard. Dad even bought us a fog machine : )



Our Puking Pumpkin. He also has a head wound.....see what alcohol will do to you?



My Evil, Mad Scientist Daughter....not sure who her victim is!



My oldest daughters Jack Skellington Pumpkin...and moms traditional one



My garden pigs, dressed for the occasion

When witches go riding,
and black cats are seen,
the moon laughs and whispers,
‘tis near Halloween.
~Author Unknown~

My Dad

Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.

~Gloria Naylor~

My dad died 11 years ago today. He was 56. I am amazed at how quickly the time has gone by. My youngest was one, today she is 12. She never knew my dad and that makes me pretty sad. Carley doesn't remember him either, she was only 3.

He was diagnosed with Pancreatic cancer in Nov. of 1996. Here he is just 3 months prior to diagnosis (with me and my mom and my 5 month old, Catherine):


The doctors told him he had 3-6 months to live. He chose not to do Chemo or radiation, he wanted to have the best quality of life for his remaining few months. He did seek out some alternative remedies, and I think they helped him make it to the 6 month mark. My parents lived in Florida at the time, and I lived in IL. I was able to get down and see him twice before he died. We went down in December and again in March.

He died near midnight on the night of May 31st. I wasn't there when he died, my sister and my brother were. I had a 3 year old and a 1 year old. I was still nursing my 1 year old. I wanted to be there, but my mom and sister told me I couldn't bring my girls, that it would be too stressful on everyone. He was in and out of coherent near the end, but I did have my mom put the phone up to him and told him I was sorry I couldn't be there. I just couldn't leave my girls. I think he understood.

I didn't always have the best relationship with my dad growing up. He could be a mean son-of-a-gun when he wanted to be. But most of the time he was pretty reserved and rather jovial. He liked to read and passed that love to me. He taught me to play chess. Life was simple for my dad and he had clear boundaries of right and wrong. He was a staunch conservative and I thank him for those values. I never had a very emotional relationship with my dad, we never told the other we loved each other, although we did hug and kiss. I remember when I was really small he used to carry me to bed on his shoulders each night. And I remember even into high school kissing him good-night before bed.

Here he is on a Fathers Day when I was about 20 (that's me on the right):


Just before he died I wrote him a letter. I wanted him to know that I although I had blamed him in the past for screwing me up, that I no longer did and that I knew he had done the best he knew how in raising me. He had a horrible childhood with a very abusive father. His childhood was worse than mine. I thanked him for being my dad and told him I loved him. I waited for a reply and finally my mother called me and told me that my dad had read the letter and cried. My dad and I never spoke about the letter and we didn't need to. He heard what I said, it made him cry, that was enough for me.

Time lessens pain but doesn't remove it. I don't think about him everyday anymore, but I do think about him frequently. And I still remember the day he died. Most of all I look forward to seeing him again one day.

Here's a picture of my dad and mom in the bar in the house I grew up in. They had their issues, but I always knew they loved each other:

We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love.
~Madame de Stael~

Momentous Occasions

Graduation is only a concept. In real life every day you graduate. Graduation is a process that goes on until the last day of your life. If you can grasp that, you'll make a difference.
~Arie Pencovici~

My oldest daughter recently "graduated" 8th grade. I put graduated in quotes because she didn't really graduate from anything. Our homeschool co-op holds a graduation ceremony at the end of the year for 8th grade and high school graduates. Carley was technically an 8th grader this year, so she technically graduated. Since we consider ourselves eclectic learners, or life learners or unschoolers or whatever you want to call us, we didn't really have anything to graduate from. She didn't finish a curriculum, we don't do curriculum. We don't consider learning to ever stop and start, we learn all the time. Try to go an entire day and not learn something. We all learn something everyday whether we acknowledge it or not. Can't watch the news or read a newspaper without learning something. So that's how we live and learn everyday.

So with that in mind, Carley participated in a graduation ceremony at our co-op. There was only one other girl graduating 8th grade, so it was short and sweet. It was part of other closing ceremony activities, but the graduation came last. After Carley was introduced, her parents (John and I), had the chance to say some things about her. I talked about her accomplishments, how we have always tried to support her in all of her endeavors, about how we unschooled and Carley was able to lead her own learning. I also mentioned how it seemed just like yesterday that she graduated from her Montessori Kindergarten. And yes, I almost cried. I also mentioned that she had decided to send herself to high school next year, and how much I will miss having her home. Her father talked about how she has tenacity and determination and usually follows through on things she sets her mind out to do. It was all quite lovely actually. I wasn't sure I wanted to participate at first, I am not one for ceremony for the sake of ceremony. Carley wasn't even sure she wanted to participate, but in the end I am glad we did. I think it will be a nice memory for her to have.

Here are some pictures for your perusal:

This is before we left the house:


Here is the table we set up with a short history of Carley's life (pictures and accomplishments):


Here she is on stage waiting for her turn to"'graduate" (a little blurry, youngest dd was in charge of the camera):

Here she is with her cake (we had a small reception afterwards):

And one with Sam, the other graduate (and a good friend):


All in all, a happy night and judging by the smiling faces, one that everyone will remember.

What we are is God's gift to us. What we become is our gift to God.
~Eleanor Powell~

Memories

Last night for whatever reason my girls and I got on the subject of high school yearbooks. They asked me if I had any. "Yes, I do, and you have seen them before" was my reply. "We don't remember looking at your yearbooks" was their reply. So off we went to hunt down my high school memories.

I have a ratty old chest that I keep old stuff in. It's like a cardboard box covered in a vinyl/plastic that has metal reinforcements and a lock. It's all dented in and the lock has been broken for some time. That's where I keep my memories. (hmm, should the container tell me something?)

Anyway, first out came the yearbooks. We spent some time laughing at how goofy I looked 22-26 years ago. Then my girls spied my prom dress, which was also folded up in my box. They wanted to try it on. Now I have to tell you, when I was in high school I always thought I was fat. There were such teeny tiny skinny girls in my high school, and they were the ones all the boys were always after. I was always on a diet and my self esteem was pretty low. At 16, when I went to prom, I was 5'6" tall and about a size 8.

So my 13 year old puts on my prom dress. At first we can't even get it zippered. I already know her bust is way bigger than mine ever was. But she is a slim girl, she has a very nice balanced figure. We finally get it on and it it fits, almost perfectly. She is currently only 5'3", so it was a little long. But it fit!

After trying on my prom dress, they wanted to try on my gym shorts, which for some reason I also saved. Those fit my 13 year old as well.

After we were done looking at my past and fighting over the color of my prom dress, (when I bought it they called it Dusty Rose, my girls kept saying "It's Pink!" ), I got to thinking.

I spent so many years belittling myself. I never thought I was good enough in high school. Not popular enough, not thin enough, not pretty enough. And here I am 25 years later, and my 13 year old, whom I view as beautiful and having a figure to die for, can fit into my old prom dress and gym shorts.

I am hopeful that my own daughters will not suffer the same low self-esteem as I. Maybe they have learned not to judge themselves against others, but on who they are instead. I think homeschooling has helped. They haven't been around girls who like to tell other girls how they look or how they should look. Girls who think no one is perfect unless you are like them.

As I start my 40's I am so much more confident at this time in my life than I ever have been before. Wisdom with age I suppose. I wonder how different my life and experiences would have been had I enjoyed this confidence when I was 16?

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.

~Dr. Seuss~