Life gets busy. I haven’t written in a while, simply because I haven’t had the time or emotional strength to pour my heart out and onto a keyboard. I’ve been thinking of my Dad quite a bit, but frankly, I’m glad he’s not here. Over the last several weeks when I would normally miss (and then write about) my father, I have made an effort to put him out of my mind.

I almost wrote a post this Easter about how my Dad would color eggs with onion skins, but instead I started sanding my kitchen cabinets. I thought of posting again on April Fool’s Day (this was a favorite holiday; we would prank each other often over the years) but I couldn’t think of a good way to pull a fast one on Mom without both of us ending up a bit sad. Instead, I went to the home improvement store. (It was raining, and they allow dogs inside – kill two walks with one stone.) Most recently I considered sharing a story abut how my Dad used to jiggle a glass of ice water over my head to coerce me into getting out of bed (he would count to three and then SPLASH). Jack is not a morning person, and sometimes I just don’t have time for him to feel like waking up at his very leisurely pace. Rather than write, I chose to conduct an online search for the perfect dishwasher and save my writing for later. If my Dad were around, it would be hard for me to call him right now anyway, so I guess I’m glad he’s not here.

Dad was a carpenter among other things, just like his brother Lawrence. I feel closest to my dad when I am building or fixing something, so needless to say I am in the midst of a full kitchen remodel. I think that both Daddy and uncle Larry would be impressed with my DIY skills, and although they could each give me some great pointers, I am still glad that neither of them are here. Just over a week ago, our family lost my beautiful cousin, Joan. Dad had a real soft spot in his heart for Joan, and I always took it as a compliment when he told me that I reminded him of her. Joan was Lawrence’s baby…his sweet, blond-haired, blue-eyed bubbly baby girl. I can’t imagine how painful it would have been for my father and for Lawrence to watch Joan suffer, or to have to endure her passing. I absolutely ache for those who loved her, for her teenage son, Ethan, and mostly for Joan herself who knew she’d have to leave Ethan behind. I am so thankful that she is out of pain, and that my father and her parents were saved the anguish of losing her.

Life is short, cancer sucks, and 50 is too young. I love my father more than ever, but right now…I’m glad he’s not here.