The gifts we give

It's been a little more than a month since my father died.

Helping me halter break one of our homebred Morgans.

He always worried about me, as dads tend to do. But as his health declined last year, I could tell how helpless he felt. He worried about me, about my family. How he couldn't stop this process from happening. He couldn't fix it for us. He couldn't make it better. He did everything there is to do to prepare for his own death - how difficult that must have been for him. But there's only so much paperwork you can really do. There's nothing you can do to prepare for the emotional void his death would leave. That, I think, perhaps devastated him more than the cancer itself.

My youngest niece grabs on to grandpa (my dad).
This was 5 days before he died.
My family experienced both the beginning and end of life in 2017.
What a f-ing year.

Who would watch out for me? Who would come to my rescue? Would I be ok? I know he thought about these things, and prayed - A LOT - about it.

He also started leaving little legacies around for us to remember him by. He made thousands (I'm not kidding, more than 2,000) of these crosses for children who receive first communion at his church. Each will have the kid's name engraved. Again, I'm not religious but I found it to be a very touching gesture. Because it was important to him.

There were a dozen or so others he engraved with the words, "Pray, Hope and Don't worry." This was the title of his favorite prayer book. He gave me one of these crosses over the summer, before he really started to decline. And an extra sat at his bedside during his final months and days.

My Christmas gift to him was a lovely throw blanket, embroidered with - you got it - "Pray, Hope and Don't Worry." He loved it, and while he only got to use it for 5 days, it laid across him during his final hours, and then across his coffin at the funeral and visitation.

As his health started to decline, my dad started writing notes to his friends throughout the years. They were just little cards, each with a personal message inside for the recipient. He had a list and he was checking off names as he completed each note.

We mailed them after he died. I bet those people cherish that card. It must have taken tremendous courage to write those - knowing it was a true and final goodbye. A gift so meaningful it's hard to put into words.

That was my dad, always finding meaning in the little things.

I so wish he could see the support and love that has surrounding me (and my entire family) this past month or so. He would be so enormously grateful and proud. And the little gestures that have kept me going the past month.

BFF Liz got me this bridle charm. It swaps out "love" instead of "pray" since
I'm agnostic, but the spirit is the same. My dad would love it!

From messages, texts, cards, thoughtful gifts, visits, loaning me a car when mine took a dump, flowers, food, hugs, laughs, craft parties, tequila, ice skating, and general kindness and understanding.

From my fellow cat-loving co workers.

Another thoughtful gift from friends.

I have always known I have good friends. But man, when you go through something like this - it is just humbling to realize how GOOD people are. There are good people in this world. A shit ton of them are in my friend circle. I don't know how I got so lucky, but I will do my best to pay it forward.

For my friends, and for my dad.

Thank you. You all know who you are.