Is there anything more beautiful and sentimental than a simple Photo Booth strip of pictures?
Love. Love. Love.
These pictures
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Friday, January 13, 2012
Friday, November 11, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Flashback Friday...Our Dad...the long and short version.
When I think of my dad as "Dad" and not the "Grandpa" stage of his life, I have two versions in my memory...and they revolve around the length of his shirt sleeves.
I think I was probably 12 or 13 before I ever saw him wear short sleeves in public. And it wasn't until the late 70's that I ever saw him go anywhere without a cap on his head.
When I was little, He was always dressed for work: either at the Station or Farming.
This picture shows this perfectly.
The Farmer in the Mobil uniform shirt.
His hands and face were darkly tanned.
But his arms and top of his head were untouched by the sun.
That was, until he retired.
That was, until he retired.
In his post Log Cabin life, he turned that tan into a normal farmer's tan by wearing short sleeves during long hours of fishing in Florida.
So there's the long and short of my two versions of "Dad."
I suppose most of us remember him this way:
as Dad and/or Grandpa (Papa) Bob
But, if I have to sum up my memory of him in one picture...
this one is a favorite and might be it.
No matter what version,
I love and miss him on Father's day and everyday.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
o8.25.o6...the smell of hospitals in winter...
"All are against me"
"I will get even"
"I have kidneys"...later deciphered by Mike as "I've been kidnapped."
It's what was written on the note that Sandy found next to Dad's hospital bed yesterday morning. It's probably the first thing he's written down in over a year. Who knows what was going on inside his head.
Yes, Dad ended up in the hospital due to his dehydration and according to the nurses was not being very cooperative after everyone went home on Wednesday...so we've had to keep a bedside "dad watch" for the last two days to make sure he doesn't defeat the purpose of the hospital by pulling out his i.v. By the time I got up there to spend the night on thursday, he had already pulled out his i.v. and the doctor finally said he was doing well enough not to start another. But it was still a restless night and I had one eye open and one shut all night.
I sat watching him and saw how hard the simplest tasks have become for him and I wonder...what are we going to be like when we're his age. It reminded me of a short story I read about an elderly lady that had asked a young man living in her apartment buiding to help her with her groceries. He helped her often, but one day a friend was with him and the old lady was having trouble with something and the young man rolled his eyes and the friend snickered...and she said "you'll be old someday, too." Thinking about "us" in his shoes and me...who will probably be trying to manage...alone...puts things in perspective and hopefully helps me be a little more compassionate...when all I want to do is be frustrated with his obessiveness and his "then get the hell out of here..." grouchiness. I did tell Sandy that I want to practice being "less bob" and "more helen"...and will try not to obess over tags touching me so much...because when you are his age....it only gets amplified. In the meantime as I wait for him to quit fussing with the sheets and getting them just right so he can sleep, he's still the man that worked everyday to put food on our table and paid way more than he had on hand for my college education (which then I didn't use), he's still a veteren of war and a german prison camp and he's still the same baby boy, son, young man, smiling fisherman, businessman, husband, dad, uncle, friend and grandpa...that I've been looking at all week in these pictures of him that I've been working on getting ready for his birthday party.
He's back at Whittenburg now. It was amazing how less grouchy he was once he got his own clothes on. Hopefully he can keep up the eating and drinking and get his strength back...at least he's out of the hospital and will be able to make it to the Birthday...Log Cabin Party. Aunt Mary and Barb are on there way here for the big weekend.
Directions to here: This inscription is the truth...no matter what.
"I will get even"
"I have kidneys"...later deciphered by Mike as "I've been kidnapped."
It's what was written on the note that Sandy found next to Dad's hospital bed yesterday morning. It's probably the first thing he's written down in over a year. Who knows what was going on inside his head.
Yes, Dad ended up in the hospital due to his dehydration and according to the nurses was not being very cooperative after everyone went home on Wednesday...so we've had to keep a bedside "dad watch" for the last two days to make sure he doesn't defeat the purpose of the hospital by pulling out his i.v. By the time I got up there to spend the night on thursday, he had already pulled out his i.v. and the doctor finally said he was doing well enough not to start another. But it was still a restless night and I had one eye open and one shut all night.
I sat watching him and saw how hard the simplest tasks have become for him and I wonder...what are we going to be like when we're his age. It reminded me of a short story I read about an elderly lady that had asked a young man living in her apartment buiding to help her with her groceries. He helped her often, but one day a friend was with him and the old lady was having trouble with something and the young man rolled his eyes and the friend snickered...and she said "you'll be old someday, too." Thinking about "us" in his shoes and me...who will probably be trying to manage...alone...puts things in perspective and hopefully helps me be a little more compassionate...when all I want to do is be frustrated with his obessiveness and his "then get the hell out of here..." grouchiness. I did tell Sandy that I want to practice being "less bob" and "more helen"...and will try not to obess over tags touching me so much...because when you are his age....it only gets amplified. In the meantime as I wait for him to quit fussing with the sheets and getting them just right so he can sleep, he's still the man that worked everyday to put food on our table and paid way more than he had on hand for my college education (which then I didn't use), he's still a veteren of war and a german prison camp and he's still the same baby boy, son, young man, smiling fisherman, businessman, husband, dad, uncle, friend and grandpa...that I've been looking at all week in these pictures of him that I've been working on getting ready for his birthday party.
He's back at Whittenburg now. It was amazing how less grouchy he was once he got his own clothes on. Hopefully he can keep up the eating and drinking and get his strength back...at least he's out of the hospital and will be able to make it to the Birthday...Log Cabin Party. Aunt Mary and Barb are on there way here for the big weekend.
Directions to here: This inscription is the truth...no matter what.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
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