An anniversary of sorts.

This shrine for my dad was made from an old tool caddy.

Eleven years ago today, I lost my dad to colon cancer.  Man, time flies.  And yet, it sort of feels like he's been gone for much longer.  The first few years without him were pretty rough, I've gotta say.  Thankfully, now that the worst of the grief has passed, I'm left with wonderful, happy memories and fantastic stories I can share with my little dudes about "Grandpa Didi."

"Didi" was his nickname, given to him by his daughters.  :)

I'm also left with his "artiness", for which I'll be forever thankful. :) I've mentioned before that he and I both got our fine arts degrees from the same university. But he also dappled a little bit with mixed-media assemblage, just like me. Not too long ago, while cleaning out a storage shed, my mom gave me some old stuff of my dad's. Among those things was this really cool train that he had made from old spools and wood scraps.
 

I'm not sure what he had planned for this train. Perhaps he meant for it to be played with by future grand kids. I'll never know, but I'm pleased to have it now. Changing the subject slightly, my dad had painted a Sesame Street scene for my sister's and my nursery when we were babies. That painting is now hanging on the wall of the little dudes' bedroom. I think my dad would've been happy to see it enjoyed by the next generation, and the dudes love knowing that a part of their grandpa and his creativity lives on.   I do, too.
 

I've come a long way these past eleven years. Losing a parent isn't easy at any age, and I hit a pretty bad downward spiral after his death. I'm very fortunate to have a loving and supportive husband who was understanding and patient with me through my grief. Bear with me...I'm about to share a favorite story that I'll probably bore my grand kids with one day! Here goes:

 

One quiet evening, not too long after my dad died, my hubby and I were sitting on the couch, and he asked me how I was holding up. At that time, it took very little to make me cry, and I knew that if I said how I was really feeling, I'd burst into tears. So I let art come to the rescue. I grabbed a little piece of paper and drew a dark rain cloud with rain pouring down, held it up to my hubby, and didn't say a word. He nodded sympathetically. Having nothing else to say, I set the picture on the coffee table and went to bed.

 

My hubby left for work the next morning before I woke up. When I finally came downstairs, I sat down on the couch and glanced at my rain cloud drawing still lying on the coffee table. And I noticed something that hadn't been there the night before...

 

Look what's peeking out from behind the cloud.  :)

My hubby's simple, loving, and wordless act cheered me up and reminded me how lucky I was. And still am. I love and miss you, Didi, but don't worry. I'm in very good hands. :)