I found out that the picture above is not my grandmother... it's her sister, Lily, holding my dad. I felt so silly, as I had made 4 copies of it, framed them, and brought them to the Sunday family gathering to give out to my aunts and grandpa. It looks so much like my grandmother! I felt like such the token dumb-blonde, haha!

As it turns out, my grandmother's sister, Lily, had 4 children, and they are all still alive. So, my aunt gave the framed photos of their mom holding my dad to them. I saw them all at the memorial BBQ we held at my dad's house this weekend, and also at the dedication ceremony held at the radio club. We also did what my father wanted done with his ashes. I couldn't speak much at all this weekend. My throat was as clenched as my heart was. I cried a lot during the scattering of my dad's ashes. I tried not to, because I wanted to see it as something positive and not something sad, but it was impossible not to recognize it for the incredible loss of future moments with my dad it was. Still, I feel pretty damn blessed to have had him in our lives all the years we did.

I kept waking up each morning for the past week or so at the time my father passed away, just as I had the few days prior to his passing as well as the day he passed. I'm pretty sure right now I'm just suffering insomnia, and not in some 'wide awake little-sleep needed' phase, cuz during the day I am freakin' tired as all heck. My stomach hurts a lot, I threw up yesterday like crazy all morning. It might be the tummy flu my little guy, Winter, had last week. I haven't thrown up in probably over a year, so I was aching hardcore from it.

Lately, when I'm feeling really bummed out about my dad's death, I watch this video:



Someday I'm gonna visit New Zealand. The song in that video brightens my day, as well as the scenery.

Have been so busy with my dad's house, cleaning it, organizing stuff, reading stuff, looking at pictures. Going through over half a century of memories takes a lot of time. Here at my own house, I sometimes watch videos of my dad and just remember all the wonderful days we had at his house and our house here on Cape Cod. I remember the talks, the laughs, the amazing gifts he left to us, things he taught us, things he knew would be useful for a lifetime of logical living.

We're moving some of the house items to our home this weekend, as well as moving Nikki to her new place in the old hometown. The next few months will be busy, but not as hectic as the past four months have been. This past weekend sorta marked the closure of things, even though there's still many other things to situate.

Since 1995, my dad, Kenny and I had a yearly family Scrabble tournament. The losers had to buy the winner a trophy (wall plaque, declaring the person a Scrabble Champion.) Today I'm picking up Kenny's Scrabble trophies... one for 2006, and one for 2007. Kenny only knows about the 2006 one. What he doesn't know is that because of the one game of Scrabble we played with my dad in early January, a game Kenny won, I bought one final Scrabble trophy for him, a really big one, with a clock on it, to show that time, life, and Scrabble will go on, even though we've felt so crushed inside by my dad's death. On the 2006 trophy, along with Kenny's name and the year, as well as the words "Scrabble Champion", it says "You and my dad planned this!" and on the 2007 one it says "Based on ONE GAME." Kenny will get a kick outta that. So would my dad. :(

I'm having a hard time with being so sad inside my heart and mind so often... I'm having a hard time with crying so much, too. But I know that it's all a part of grief, so I'm just going with it. Eventually things will get back to normal, except that my dad won't be alive anymore even when things are back to normal... that's the part I'm struggling with most. Knowing that when something great happens, I can't call my dad up on the phone or see him in person and talk with him about it. Knowing that when I have a dilema, I can't ask for his advice. Knowing that when I write something he'd enjoy reading, I can't email him it. Knowing that those warm, spring days of playing Scrabble in the pinegrove won't be happening this year or in the years to come. Knowing that his Monday night dinners are gone forever. I try to just be glad that I had the time with my dad, but I keep just feeling like I got ripped off... that my dad got ripped off, years of his life. It just doesn't feel fair, we worked so hard to repair our relationship as father and daughter, I wanted decades more with him, because he was such a good dad, such a good grandfather, such a good friend. The person I got to know the past 20 years was a man I had enormous respect for... and to lose him just hurts so much.

I gotta stop hurting this much. I hope to feel less aching in my heart about it as time goes by, but some days it feels like the sadness grows, and other days I feel peacefulness for my dad and his passing... I almost feel excited for him, knowing he knows it all now. The meaning of life and death, the whole 'what happens when we die' aspect.

There's a closet I'm going through this weekend at my dad's house that I pretty much figure is gonna make me cry... his box of magic tricks is in there. He'd do performances at family gatherings and birthday parties. The boys are going to try to learn all of the magic tricks my dad, their grandfather, did so they can carry on the tradition. Most of the tricks are pretty easy (my dad showed us how he did all of them.) Maybe I won't cry... maybe I'll smile and hear him say Abracadabra, maybe I'll just feel my sadness lift away, as if by magic.

I sure hope so.