Every Fathers day I think of all the hard working dedicated Dads out there, who do the right thing as best they can. Some have a happy family life, some, not so much...some married, some divorced, but to all the Dads who participate in their children's lives, in any way shape or form...I commend you. And to you I hope you have a day filled with love.To the ones who chose to turn their backs, well I just hope you get your armpits infested with bedbugs. And I mean the ones who decided not to be a dad, just to walk away. I hate to write such thoughts on a day we should honor, but this is for the ones who didn't try, who never bothered, who didn't care. For the twenty five years my son has been around, Fathers Day was a tough day for him. I always assumed it was a tough day for his runaway dad as well. He had his reasons, his demons, his fears, he made his choice not to be a parent. I used to think it must hurt him every year, every birthday, every Fathers day. He could have changed his mind any time, he could have called, he could have sent a fifty cent card....he chose to do nothing. I never asked him for anything, he had nothing to fear but a little boy who wanted him so bad.
For twenty five years I defended you to your son, I protected your image, I told your son that you loved him and that you would be here if you could.
I told him you would have answered his letter that he wrote you at four years old, if you could have. He signed it," Luv yur sun, james". Four. He was four years old..
I told him it was hard for you to be away from him, but that you had to do what you had to do, and that you missed him.
I told him you would have been proud of him for winning the cub scout pine wood derby, with a car we cut with kitchen knives.
I told him you would like to have taken him camping.
I told him you would have been proud when he graduated with a 4.5, third in his class.
I told him you would have loved that he went to your alma mater,and he even lived in one of the same dorms buildings as you.
In the last few years, we quit talking about you. He gets it now.
So to all you Dads out there who don't accept their obligation to be Fathers to their children...it doesn't take much, a lot less than you think. All they want, is to know you love them.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
After a long (at least a year!!) search for the perfect piece of furniture I needed; I realized I wasn't going to get what I wanted for several reasons. Number one, I have this vision in my head that won't go away...rustic, rough hewn, wood grain that makes you want to roll on it (and yes, beautiful wood does affect me that way). Number two, when you find something semi-doable, someone thinks their vintage inspired, poorly crafted furniture is worth enough money to pay the mortgage for months. And last, deep down I really wanted to build it myself. Of course, it helps immensely to have a man around who wields a planer and saw like he knows what he is doing, and also who happens to be good at it. He does and he is. So we drew up plans, bought some beautiful walnut, measured and cut all weekend. Well, he cut, I measured, and he remeasured. So far... this is what we have.Guess what it is?