Anniversary '1991' in Vegas

click on picture to enlarge. I would like to
introduce you to my favorite dog in the whole,
big world. This is Shadow(my shadow).

Hello, everyone, hope you are having the most
enjoyable evening in your human lives. This
was taken shortly after I found my favorite
humans. Mommy and Daddy brag all the time
about the day they found me and all.
But, please don't let in on my secret, that I
really found them.

I heard Buffalo's dog just got his picture
taken. She is just too cute. Maybe he can teach me
a trick or two. I'd really like to convince them
that I need a more recent one made. They act like
they want to keep me young forever.

Well, I need to let you go. I'm just so tired and
I wanna go to bed. I'm thinking that maybe I
might just curl up in my hidey spot, if it's not
hot. Please visit me again tomorrow. I have so
much to share with you. Good-night. ruf, ruf.

The above picture was taken during the Gulf War. He finally returned home from there because of the many pleas for his safety. Money was not as important as his life. The diamond ring he was having made for me with dophins never made it. The jewelry shop, located a few blocks from where he worked was blown up, along with the rest of the block when a missile hit it.

beautiful

Happy Birthday, Dad

I wonder if they have internet service in heaven or at least a phone number.
If so, please Dad, contact me. Can you log on and see what's in my life, my heart? Can you feel the love I feel for those that I care so deeply about. The one's you never had a chance to meet? I wish with all my heart that they could have had a chance to know you. You were my inspiration.

I never meant to add to the hurt and anguish you had, already, in your life. I guess that to my young, teenage, identity searching self - I didn't understand. But, oh the truth I see through my adult eyes. Did I really have to wait until I was 53 years old, the same age that you died so long ago, to really and truely understand?

Do you remember when I held your hand and told you I love you. You instantaneouly squeezed my hand to let me know, in your comatosed way that could not see with eyes unopened, with lips sewn tight, while closing down to this world and getting ready to move on. Did you not feel the love enough to stick around?

I was never mad at you, not really. I did not mean to rebel against you. Oh, my heart longs to somehow find a way to let you know that I always cared and loved you and always looked up to you with respect and adoration. You were my heroe dad.

I know I was upset at the times when I got punished for the wrongs someone else in the family did. I did not mind being the scapegoat because I was the youngest in the family. I know now that you were doing the best you could. Never having had children of your own and marrying a woman with seven kids. I had always admired you for that.

When I married,the second time around.and starting my new life with four kids all of a sudden, instead of one. The things I tried, tough love, trying to unite the family into one. Trying to put the puzzle pieces together that were too different, discordant and seeing that they would not fit. I know now how hard you tried to make the family work. The family became your family.

Looking through different people's eyes, throughout the years, I have seen the quiet desperation that was in your eyes. I have felt your heart's discontent. I have shared a thread of happiness when it would appear. And the only picture I could get a hold of, through out the years is the one of angry desperation and discontent. I really resent that.

So, the undeserved spankings are all forgiven and anything else. But the one thing I cannot forgive is when you knew you were sick, for a long time, pacing upstairs in your bedroom. The fear of not letting a soul know. Perhaps in wanting to avoid the hardship in others and not wanting to hurt them in any way. Or, was it also, because you really felt that no one really cared.

I read that angels can communicate through the beautiful array of colors of a rainbow. They can slide down the rays and visit people on this plane of existence. And you are my 'special angel.' I have felt this communication, at times throughout the years. Your only way of reaching me. But how can I reach you? Do you have a phone number, an internet address? A blog where you've recorded what you feel, describing where you now reside, telling me you miss me, the regrets in your life, the joys you always found in a baby's face and all the children in the world were yours.

I was never jealous of that; I always thought it was so cute and special. You know, I guess I got that part of me from you. I have never thought of it until now. The embarassment I feel sometimes because I can't help but run up to these babies, to talk to kids. Oh, you know the other day, a baby was showing off her new teeth. So full and proud of herself. I wish I could have called you and told you about that one. So Special! I see these encounters as gifts in my life. Visits of joy to brighten up my day.

And some mothers and grandmothers practically snatch up their babies when a stranger approaches; so different from when you were here on earth. Oh, dad, if you could only see the mess people have made of this place; you could never comprehend it. Babies disappearing, little girls snatched from their bedrooms, ....................

You know, if you had stuck around, you could have somehow prevented a lot of that. The magic you could have made, the love you could have shared from a heart too large to contain in your own body. One heart 'so strong',' one person at a time,' so powerful that evil could not negate it. Could not take over the fierce love. Too powerful for the devil to take hold of.

Do you know that when I was thirteen I wanted to die but somehow did not succeed. I guess a bottle of aspirins and four bottles of nail polish would not do. Experiencing the hurts in life, from the outside world and within our family. And no one was there to listen. I know you would have but you were sleeping from exhaustion, working the night shift and running mother around all day shopping and such. I could not not wake you.

I remember how you treated me when I ran away. When I got back you ignored me, gave me the silent treatment for a week. That really hurt when I needed you most. But now I realize I hurt you by running away when you gave everything you had, in every way to our family.

That last Christmas I spent with you was so special and yet so heart-rending. I wanted you to have the perfect gift, because you were so sick. The bathrobe I made for you would make you so happy. One that you could and would want to wear 'forever.' I couldn't wait til Christmas when you would open it and put it on. The very special gift from your 'favorite' little girl. I really grew up that year. After 14 years of Christmas' wonder-filled gazing at special adorned.pine-aroma trees, midnight feasts when you arrived home from work,hundreds of beautifully wrapped presents under the tree to be passed out by my own special Santa. That year was so different. None of the other things meant anything to me anymore, just wanting you to get well.

Do you know, when you squeezed my hand, something inside told me you would not be around for long. I ran from the room and was found sobbing hysterically under the sink in the bathroom. The nurse made me leave the hospital because it was too much for me to handle. The three of us that left drove around, stopped in a church. When we walked in there was an angel hovering above the altar. A beautiful angel telling us it would be okay somehow. The next day, we were sent to school. I was in a classroom, on the second floor, sis on the main floor, at opposite ends of the building. The exact time that you took your last breath, sis and I met at the nurses office. A short time later, Gary arrived to tell us you were gone.

The blur of events that followed: helping choose the most beautiful box that would hold the most precious person I had ever known. Velvet-lined interlaced with satin and ribbon. Hundreds of people pouring in to say their last good-byes. People I had never met coming out of the woodwork. Tears pouring from my saddened heart, a loss so enormous, not understanding, not comprehending why you were taken from us. I promise I'll do better; I'll be the most perfect person in the world. Please, God, if you will only let my father stay. Please don't take him away.

The darkened sky filled with gloom, tears falling down from heaven. The earthened shroud of shovelled dirt, adorned casket laid forever resting.

Events of years that followed; a family that could no longer be strong enough to keep it together. The hate, the jealousies, the favortetisms, the you-are-not-good-enoughs to be in my world. The clinging, desperation, pleading, beautiful smiles to hide the pain, silent mourning, quiet grieving.

Someday, I will meet you again, in your home so far away. I long for this and yet I have so much yet to do here. I have so much more to learn, too much beauty to create in my paintings, to share and bring some light into the darkness of people's world-weary souls. I have too much love to give but Dad, I don't know how to do it. Please help me Dad! We need to talk. I feel so desperate at times. Please show me the way, I need to know. Oh, God, it's just to much. Where is that number? If you know it, please put it on the internet for me to see, for the whole world to see. I'll even put up postures and travel from sea to sea.