Showing posts from October, 2009

Milk Jug O'Lanterns

It's Halloween and that means it's Jack O'Lantern time. But, since there were no pumpkins to be had ANYWHERE in Yorkton today, unless I stole them already carved from people's front yards, we had to improvise. And it was FUN!

First we cleaned out some old milk jugs, and the boys used markers to draw faces on them. (Glen and I each did one too.) Then I carved them just the same as I would a pumpkin. Except less messy. And way faster. And actually way easier, so not like pumpkins at all really. I used an exacto-knife to start the cuts and scissors to finish.Then we painted them using sponges and acrylic folk paint. I cut a hole in the bottoms and painted the insides with a lighter orange, so they would glow more like real pumpkins when they were lit. I had considered using, and purchased, tissue paper and glue, but the paint worked so well we didn't even try it.
(You may have noticed the boys are wearing their clothes inside out. That was a comprimise, they wouldn'…

Today's Distraction

I didn't dress up Ben and Sam for their first Halloweens. I wasn't going to dress up Hannah either but two things changed my mind:
She's a girl. And this will likely be my only chance to dress up a teeny tiny little girl baby in a teeny tiny little girly costume. Next year she will be a toddler. It's just not the same.
Making a Halloween costume from scratch takes a lot of time and is very distracting. It is especially good if you don't have a pattern or a solid plan when you start, because then that time of night when you lay in bed with nothing to do but think is taken up with planning how to attach things and stuff.I'll save the big reveal for Halloween probably, but I can't resist putting up a picture of the pants I sewed tonight with no pattern or anything! Check these suckers out:Fancy hey? She's going to be a flower.

And a bonus picture of my adorable niece Abigail looking adorable. (Becky, that flower barrette is from you.) (I can hardly wait till …


I'm almost all caught up on my TV watching. (Just two more episodes of America's Next Top Model to go.) This is no small feat, considering the number of TV shows I watch every week and the fact that I was over two weeks behind by the time we got home on Thursday.

I've gotta find some more shows.

I'm not ready to start thinking. I'm also not ready for life to go on. I just can't accept that it's really over. Every now and then, if I'm not really careful to distract myself I feel this rush of panic sweep over me. And then it comes back to me. All of it. And my pulse starts to race and tears well up and I fight the thought with everything in me, but it comes... Dad is dead. My dad is dead. He died. Everything was fine, and then he got cancer, and then he died.

When I let them, the thoughts run through my head like I'm still trying to convince myself. I really have trouble connecting what happened with reality. If I didn't have his camera here, and the…


I hurt my ankle a few months ago. It still hurts. Every now and then the boys bump it, or I forget that it's injured and I hurt it again.

When I first hurt it, it was impossible to forget because the pain was so intense, so I was careful to guard it. You never would have found me sitting on a bench in the mall with it out there for people to walk into, and if you had, and if they had bumped me, I wouldn't have been mad. That would have been dumb. It wouldn't have been their fault. Why should they have to watch every step they take around me? Why should they even know that I'm hurt? It would be ridiculous to expect other people to guard MY injury.

And yet, that's what I'm doing. I'm out there in the world expecting people to understand how badly I'm hurt. I'm expecting them to be careful not to hurt me further. I'm expecting them to remember a hurt that they aren't feeling, at least not most people, and not in the same way.

It's not workin…

Above The Clouds

Last week when I flew out of Regina it was rainy and cloudy. Of course, it didn't take more than a few seconds after take-off for Hannah and I to be flying through sunny skies. And when we flew home it was the same, only in reverse. One second we were surrounded by blue skies with a soft cushion of white stretching out endlessly below us, and the next second we were dropping back down into reality. Only, I'm not most of the time. If I seem fine it's because I'm still up there.

I can't believe he's really gone. Such a trite saying for such a complicated state of being. Oh, I know he's gone. I was with him when he left. It's impossible for me to pretend that none of this ever happened. It happened. But somehow, I've got this feeling that it's all a mistake. That somehow there is still a possibility that it could get fixed and we could get him back. That once again, I am completely over-reacting, and all of this can be put right. Because it feels co…
Dad's funeral will be held at West Portal Mennonite Brethren Church on Monday October 19th at 1pm. There will be a lunch at West Portal following the service. The internment will be at the Osler Community Cemetery at 4pm. Friends and family are invited to gather at Martensville Alliance Church afterward for an informal time of sharing and fellowship starting at around 6pm. A potluck-style supper will be served.


Dad left the arms of his loving family to rest in the arms of his loving father today at around 5:40 pm. Angela was on one side of him holding his hand, and I was holding the other and stroking his hair and singing "Be still and know that I am God" to him quietly. Mom was beside me. He gasped twice and was gone just like that. Even being there, I can still hardly believe this happened.

We know he's not hurting anymore. We know he isn't sad or lonely. But we are hurting. There are no words to describe the anguish of that moment and all of the moments of letting go that led up to it. But we are together and we have family here with us to help.

I told Dad many times today that it was all right. But it's not really.

My Dad

Things are quiet here right now. Dad is resting comfortably. I sang to him a while ago and he was moving the mouth like he wanted to sing too. He hasn't said much today, but last night he told us all that he loves us "a lot". Over and over. "I love you a lot. I love you a lot. I love you a lot. I love you a lot."

All day yesterday while we waited for Ang and Johnny he kept talking about a wedding. He was wondering who would watching Hannah during the wedding. And talking about Ang and Johnny coming to get married. We couldn't figure out what he was talking about.

When Ang got here she told us that she had told Dad when she left that he had to stay alive because she still needed him to walk her down the aisle. Oh Dad, you are so sweet for worrying about all of us.

He is confused sometimes, but he understands what is happening and I know he's thinking and planning as best he can... So that he can know we'll be okay.

His breathing is very slow and g…

My Dad

Things are bad.

Dad isn't doing well. At all. He is SO tired. He keeps saying he's done and he's sorry. We tell him that there's no reason to be sorry. No one could have done this better than he has.

His cancer has taken over his whole body and destroyed most of his organs. There are new cancer cells which have mutated and are growing rapidly and are impossible for the doctors to treat. This is an incredibly rare, and very aggressive form of Multiple Myeloma and in a strange way, makes us feel a little better. The "what if?" game doesn't apply here. Without a miracle completely from God, there's nothing we could have done, or can do to change things.
It may be time to let him go, but how do you let go of someone who makes your world make sense in a way that only a dad does?

And the rest of the family is still trying to get here in time. Please pray for them.

Unless there is that beam-of-light type miracle we are going to have to say goodbye to my dad. Ve…

Don't Read This if You're Already Depressed

Dad isn't doing very well. So neither am I. Obviously.

Everything, other than crying, seems like such an effort. And all the things that make me happy don't seem real. All that seems real is the possibility that this time next year I'll be wishing to live this horrible week over again, because at least it's a week with my dad alive and here in this world, with some hope that he'll stay here for a while yet.

I take pictures of the kids, and smile at friends, and do all the things I ordinarily do, but all of it is completely empty. The only thing that is really filling me right now is dread.

I need for him to come home. I need him to be lying on his couch watching a cooking show with an iced tea on the floor beside him. I can't even remember what it felt like before all of this started. And when I look at pictures of people doing ordinary things like celebrating birthdays, or having babies, I try to imagine how I'd feel if I was that person and every happy thin…