bodner067

Thank you ... They seem like two such simple words, but I hope you know how much all of your support has meant to me since I lost my dad on October 31st. Your wonderful comments on my last post truly warmed my heart; they made me smile and they made me cry, but most of all, they reinforced what I already knew--that the stitching/blogging community is filled with  the most warm, caring, and generous people. And I am so lucky to call you my friends. Life seems different now that dad is gone--it's almost as if a haze has fallen over things. I know it will clear after a while, but right now, it still seems pretty thick. I know those of you who have already lost a parent will know exactly what I mean. I want to thank you, my friends, for the wonderful cards and caring emails--I was so touched by each and every word that you sent my way. I could feel those hugs you were sending me from far, far away. Thank you--truly... With Thanksgiving looming (and me preparing for 17 guests this year...

Our "long goodbye" is over.. My dear father passed away on October 31, 2014 at the age of 87 years, two months, and five days. Born in a small town in western New York, he was the third of four children whose parents were the town doctor and a former schoolteacher. A "blessed" baby according to the caption written on the back of this photo taken by his mother that pictures him at just nine weeks old. Dad in November 1927: nine weeks old You would never know it from looking at this angelic looking boy, but Dad was quite an impish child--very energetic, hard to make sit still. I'm sure he and his buddies roamed the streets of his small town cooking up all sorts of mischief! Dad at age 8 or 9 in the mid-1930s And he was a bit of a rebel, too. The first time my mom met him in high school she thought he was cocky and a bit full of himself... And I'm sure he was--he was a handsome football star, president of his class, and class salutatorian. Mom and Dad dated ...