Saturday, December 20th, 2008 12:31 pm
It's been two years [edit: almost] to the day since daddy died, but it's not the anniversary that has me missing him; it's the weather. If it had been this bad two years ago, he wouldn't've tried to go out, I don't think. But more than that: he'd have taken photos. He'd have posted descriptions of what it was like up on the Ridge. At 700 feet, they likely have quite a bit more snow up there than we do down here, as I doubt they saw as much melting through the week.

The post would have been brief, I suspect, at least by my babbling standards. But the snow, the beauty, the cold...and the joy of being snug in a house with all the fuel and warmth and comfort, all the necessary things stockpiled...those would have all been there.

It's moments like this that make me realize how much his daughter - and mother's - I am. Oh, I don't have a woodstove. I have a larger and newer house, yes. I live near town, in a subdivision, and I prefer it that way even though I miss the quiet beauty of the countryside; it's more convenient, and the convenience is worth it to me as it was not to my parents. (Also, I lack the skills to maintain even a small "gentleman's" farm as they did - and the desire and time to learn those skills. I'd love to know how, but not to spend the time learning how.)

But: I am at home, in a warm house, with a pair of fluffy smug cats sprawled around, and my husband. I have a fireplace (admittedly gas, and admittedly not running because it's not needed, but I may turn it on later for the joy of it, for a little bit). I have plenty of food, including food we can eat if the power goes out. And I am watching the snow fall and admiring its beauty, taking photos (probably more than Dad would have, but still). I am as smug as the cats, nearly, because I am snug up in my house and have nowhere to go and nowhere to be but here. I've got laundry running and I put on today's clothing warm from the dryer - Mom's influence, that, if also one of the necessary tasks of day-to-day living.

I am so blessed. I wish I could have had my parents longer, but I am so blessed to have had them, and I am blessed to have the life I have now. I hope Drew will be as lucky - I can do my best, but I can only do what any parent can do (and I'm not sure my best will be as good as my parents' best was, though Scott's, I think, will; he has more patience and calm than I do).

Interestingly, I believe today is also the first day Drew could arrive and be, technically, a term baby. Mind you, he shows no signs of doing so and I don't expect or want him to; but he could. It seems oddly appropriate. Coming this early would be rare, though, especially for a first pregnancy. I'm glad, since the roads are likely not passable right now - and tomorrow, if the ice storm materializes, will be worse. He's better off right where he is for some weeks yet.
Saturday, December 20th, 2008 09:19 pm (UTC)
I'd have loved to see your dad post about this snow too, and see his daughter pregnant and hold his grandson.
Your parents raised a very lovely human being.
Saturday, December 20th, 2008 09:20 pm (UTC)
What a wonderful thought to conjure on what your Dad would write in his entry today. I can just imagine what he would write about Drew's arrival. His entries on the subject, I'll bet would be the prefect examples of pregnant (pun intended) understatement. The circle of life is so sad and joyous.

I do hope Drew holds off is actual coming out until the roads are better.

Sunday, December 21st, 2008 03:15 am (UTC)
Our oldest came two weeks before her due date. In retrospect it was probably a mistake to go to Westercon, 100 miles from home, but it made for a couple of good songs.

The very best of luck on the weather.
Saturday, December 20th, 2008 10:35 pm (UTC)
This is like last year...we both missed your dad about the same time, although for different reasons. I was just thinking a few days ago I'd love to hear his comments on the election of Barack Obama, the current economic crisis, and etc like that.
Saturday, December 20th, 2008 10:41 pm (UTC)
*hugsz*
Sunday, December 21st, 2008 12:20 am (UTC)
*hugs*

I miss your dad and his posts. I often think about him when driving on snowy/ice roads at this time of year... maybe it makes me drive more cautiously.

We got your card today. Thanks!
Sunday, December 21st, 2008 12:34 am (UTC)
My sympathy.

I lost my Dad to cancer in 1999, and I still miss him a lot.
Sunday, December 21st, 2008 07:30 am (UTC)
Hi. A few days ago I was checking my friends list and saw your dad is still on there. I know hes been gone a couple of years but I still feel connected, I sort of wouldn't feel right just cutting him off, like he'd check or something. Two people who should have had longer, I wish they'd been around to see their grandchild. My dad is gone too and I suppose it's the way of things, but it doesn't make it easier, especially at this time of year. I thought Andy would out last me. *hugs*
Sunday, December 21st, 2008 11:55 am (UTC)
I often think of your Dad. For so many reasons.

Also think of him when I get the frequent emails from Plow and Hearth Co. He introduced me to that company.

How happy and proud he would be of you. Would love to read his posts about being a Grandfather.


Sunday, December 21st, 2008 02:18 pm (UTC)
What a wonderful post. I would copy this and let Drew read it one day. I read the letter my mom wrote to my grandmother when she got me. (all three of us were adopted)

I miss my parents, too, and it has been 28 years since my mom died and 39 since my dad died.

I am just so excited to be meeting Drew soon. I am glad you are sharing this experience.