I didn't shed a single tear on the third anniversary of my father's death. It's been a while since I've cried for him. I don't know if this means I've finally reached acceptance, or if it just means I'm getting better at bottling my emotions. I can often feel the tears well up when I think of my dad. I can't watch a movie or t.v. show that has any father/daughter issues, or the death of a father without tears welling up. The tears don't spill over though. They don't run down my cheeks, or off the tip of my nose any more.
I can't remember his voice.
In other news...
I started crocheting my brother's sweater again... Twice... The first sweater I made was too small, so I switched to a bigger crochet hook, and went up a pattern size. That one turned out way too big for my brother... But it should fit my husband. Then I started another one with the bigger crochet hook, and the first pattern size I used. It looks like it should fit nicely.
I also made my gramma a poncho. It's charcoal colored chenille. It's so SOFT! And WARM!
And I made my sister's hat. It's purple, and pink, and FUZZY!
Oh, and I fell down on the weekend... My hubby smacked my ass, knocked me off balance, and I just crumpled to the floor. I wasn't wearing my ankle brace, so I re-stretched my still-not-healed tendons. That was fun...
Joe, The Email, And What I Have to Say
1 day ago