Sweet 16...?

I'm hoping 2016 will be sweet since 2015 was a year I'm more than happy to say goodbye to. Between the ex-boss that resulted in stress leave from work, managing the returned panic attacks, holding my father's hand while he was in palliative care... and so much more... 2015, well, it wasn't nice knowing you. 

Without my father to talk to, a lot of things built up far more that it normally would have. Strange how that happens. When I'd return from a work trip, he'd be the first person I'd call to tell him all about it. My last week long work trip in December was very stressful and I missed my father even more. He would have talked me down, tell me "all is ok, dear" and then would ask what I was knitting while sitting in those "swanky hotel rooms us government folk got"... oh, he was a funny guy!

My biggest cheerleader is no longer there for me and my un-balanced core needs to hear "all is ok, dear" even more. So this year will be a year of looking to hear those words in different ways. A year of simplifying things in order the clear the clutter... oh, don't worry... I'm not going all granola or anything. While I research and learn and write... it's all to find my centre again.

Of course, knitting will be involved. I believe that art, in all it's many forms, is healing. Knitting has been my healer and carried me in the past and it will again. The simplifying begins with knitting projects that only my stash will support (unless I'm travelling cuz souvenir yarn doesn't count). Good thing I have a large stash. 

Another step... chopped off my hair to a spunky pixie cut! It has always been long since high school. Good thing there's knitting for in-spite of having my own internal solar flares (that's another story), the neck gets a tad cold but oh, the amount of shampoo I'm saving!

While I go through 2016... I will go through it remembering my father's big Irish heart and twinkly blue eyes. While he may no longer be here... my new tat is as my reminder that he is always with me. The knit blue celtic-knot heart with a sprig of Irish Heather is on my right arm so that when I knit, or do anything else, I see it... my reminder that all will be ok.

Last year was a year of heartbreaking tears... this year? Healing tears of joy... and when I begin to doubt, all I need to do is touch my Blue Heart... breathe deep and say to myself, all will be ok.

Oh, and it was yet another shawl I was knitting in that 'swanky' hotel... yup... one healing tear at a time.

of love and loss

I was adored by my father... which makes his death on July 30 a hard loss to live with but live with I must. It has been a tough few months with hospital visits and overnight stays holding his hand all the while working and managing my anxiety attacks. These are bittersweet memories. While these and other memories of my father may fade as I grow old, the love for first born will never be forgotten. 

My father was a story teller... a true seanchaí. Even while he was in the hospital, he charmed the staff with his stories and flirty blue eyes. He had a true Irish soul. It wasn't until I visited Ireland for the time did I realize how deep his Irish soul was. Every tour guide, bus driver, B&B proprietor, publican in the local or the lads in the same local... they were all story tellers. They would drawn you in with a story and there was no going back... the lilt didn't hurt. That's when I fully understood how Irish my father was even tho he never stepped foot on the ol' sod. His Irish grand parents, Sam and Martha McNeill Mills influenced him in so many ways as my father influenced me.  His soul is my soul as we both love storytelling. 

Blue Heart
In honour of Da's blue eyes

Dad charmed young and old, friends and strangers, men and women... his charm came from a genuine love for all he met. He had no malice. Considering he lived in his wheelchair for nearly 30 years he was one of the most positive people I knew. My brother is the charmer and I'm not nearly as positive or as patient or as kind as my father was but I'm working on it. It is his spirit of forgiveness that I am trying hard to emulate right now. You see, a 'friend' betrayed my trust some time ago and while that person is no longer in my life, the damage caused to others is coming to light. I don't do well with betrayal. The last person who betrayed me nearly destroyed me so while forgiveness is hard, I must for my sake.  

If I am to honour my father's memory, I must also honour his greatest gifts. While dad is no longer with me, may his strength and twinkly blue eyes continue to envelope me on my journey of life.