she speaks of him again.

Losing a parent is one of those "gifts" (or wake up calls) in life where you recognize (like a hit over the head), how truly valuable time is with your children and loved ones. Yes, its one of those life lessons meant to be learned the hard way. Grief painfully and yet beautifully, reveals what COUNTS in our days. {What is that poem I love from Dead Poets Society, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may..."? I'll look that up later.}

This newly acquired "knowledge" of mine, has created a softer mother in me. I'm really trying to give the children more hugs than words of correction (when realistic), I'm trying a little harder to make them feel special in the every day, and trying my best to ensure they are aware of how incredible they are to me. *Of course ask my kids if I am any different and they will tell you I'm the same sleepy, have-no-energy-to-cook, chart-making, drill sergeant I always was...but I know I'm trying harder.
And that counts for something.

What if I didn't have any warm-fuzzy, happy memories of my dad?
(I know too well that could be my experience.)
What if there weren't any special recollections, unique traditions, or even just endearing *dad moments* that  he gave me (without maybe realizing it) to remember him by?
Now that he is gone...I have stories to tell about his character, traditions to carry on or write down, happy memories to relive in my mind and feelings of affirmation from words once spoken, to bring comfort.

I pray my children in years to come, will smile and feel a warmth in their heart when they recall memories from home....even if there were/are difficult (ok dysfunctional) memories, I want and HAVE to make sure there are plenty of good retrievable ones as well. Don't we all want that?

A last minute scribbled sign with colorful snacks to welcome my tired students home. They LOVED this.