When things happen

A pic of Millie, the Mal-Shi...
 just because.
For a while, I will mostly be posting at the neglected Ruralhood blog. I started The Ruralhood to tell my thoughts and stories of rural living as a young person. I share memories there so that they won’t (or might not) be lost.
Like everyone else, when bad things happen, we struggle. Our current struggle comes from the loss of a family member and missing him. My dad passed away in a hurry, March 13, 2017 (more about that later, at The Ruralhood). He was buried on March 17, St. Patrick's Day, which made me smile as if he ordered up the date. We're Irish-ish. Dad's family (of origin)  had mostly red hair--and temper. Therefore, road rage comes easy for me. We are sad about his absence, but what can a person do when something like this happens? It's either stop living or move forward. He ALWAYS moved forward. None of this, I'll sit down and let life's happenings crush me. He was forward thinking.
Random thoughts because...that is who I am:
  • A cousin told me at my dad’s viewing that he had read some of my posts at The Ruralhood. Who doesn't like when people read what you write (and tell you so)? Flattering, and yet, I felt exposed? So funny.
  • My mom has been reading my dad’s blog posts since his death. It’s been a way to connect. She feels so lost without him. I reread his blog, too, but while he was hospitalized. Mom hears Dad's voice through his writing. Keep that in your mind while you write. Our voice shows up in our writing. So.very.cool.
  • In the three years, since Millie bullied her way in came home with me, she has been a bit standoffish to other people, except for my daughter who "may" hold and "may" pet her. When my other family members visit, I can tell Millie wants to join in especially with the grandkids, but she doesn't. Not long after my dad’s passing, my family was at my house. Millie walked to my mom, put her front feet up on my mom’s lap and wiggled her butt like she does when she wants help up. Millie requests. I tend to serve. Not only did she sit there, Millie let Mom pet her and for a long time. Millie is a therapy dog in her heart. Who knew? 
At The Ruralhood, I'm talking about sewing in the 1970s part 2, if you want to read it. The final post on it is next week, I promise.


cleemckenzie said…
When someone like a dad leaves us, it's as if all of our orbits have gone out of whack. It took our family several years to re-establish our relationships to each other without our dad at the center.
Very sorry about your father. That's good he had a blog you can all revisit. I never thought of a blog as a reminder like that.
Pat Hatt said…
I never thought of our blogs being a reminder of our voice either. Millie sure knew and tried to comfort indeed.
Hi Teresa - what a lovely post ... but I am so sorry at your father's passing - especially when it's more sudden than you all would have hoped. That's wonderful that Millie understood and stayed with your mother ... a great comfort to her. Our voice is in our blog ... it most definitely gives off our vibes - I don't really do personal but yet when I write ... it's the way I write now embedded into my DNA of Positive Letters.

I'm delighted your Dad read your posts and kept in touch mentally with his own thoughts through your writings - obviously as well as when he and your mother saw you.

With many thoughts at this time ... and I'll be reading - cheers Hilary
Suzanne Furness said…
So sorry to hear of the loss of your dad, always hard to lose someone so close. I like to think that my blog has a voice, although I really don't know if any of my family read it, maybe they will sometime and connect with something I posted.
Best wishes.
I am so sorry - and love that Millie reached out to help soothe the ache.
JoJo said…
Dogs are amazingly intuitive that way. Such precious creatures.
Cheryl @ TFD said…
Teresa, I'm so sorry to read of your dad's passing. I think it's wonderful that he had a blog.

Your dog is a cutie and I do think pets have a way of sensing when you are sad or sick and want to comfort.

My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

Gail said…
I am saddened by your loss. Sorry I did not know sooner.

Dogs do have a way of knowing when they are needed.

Blessings to you and your family.
Like Gail, I am sorry I did not know about your grief sooner. :-( No words will ease your pain but know that another heart reaches out to you in the darkness.
Fundy Blue said…
I'm sorry to hear that you lost your father recently, Teresa. That leaves a hole in your heart that never closes. Eventually you remember more of the good and less of the sadness and loss. I love that Millie comforted your mom, and that your mother feels connected to your father through his writing. I feel very close to my father through the words that he has left behind. Take care! Sending you a big hug!
Nick Wilford said…
Millie sounds like a sweetheart. Dogs have an instinct for when we need comforted. I didn't know your dad kept a blog. How wonderful you can still hear his voice.

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