365 days of images - - Day 257- Sept. 13, 2021 - Linda's Intuitive Images LMH -- A Daughter's Grief

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My focus is shot to poop - my spirit feels crushed.  I could care less about taking pictures, I did a few as I walked this morning but right now I'm feeling stunned and out of sorts.

I am not a writer in any sense of the word, but journaling helped me with the pain after my husband Phil was diagnosed with astrocytoma brain cancer.   I wrote the anguish away.   I took what was in my heart and put it down in the blog.  6 months after he died I started 365 days of images, it has benefited me in more ways than I can explain.  Healing creativity, nature, the ocean and movement.  I've been trying to walk it off.  My dad was old school and had a "walk it off" attitude.  

Losing my dad a couple of days ago has brought grief back.  My dad was a big character, a complex man.  Much loved, he had a temper, was very strict and used fear as a tactic to keep you in line.  He was difficult but loved very deeply.  We were told we were loved and it was obvious.  

He had a rough start.  He was given up to the state and lived in foster care at the time of the depression.  There were good homes and neglectful homes, there were people that took children for the extra money it brought in.  He was sick, abused and lived on the streets.  He was called Boston Blackie, a man of small stature, he endured beatings at first but became tough and a fighter.  My dad would tell us stories of this time period, stealing bread to eat, delivering newspapers to care for himself, fighting, trouble and ice skating.

As an adult his family came back into his life, mom, brothers and sisters, and found out the identity of his father that had already passed.  He researched even more, found extended family and brought them into his life.  He loved all of them and was incredibly happy to have them included in his family.  Family meant everything to him.

He joined the military when he was 17, and endured two sessions of boot camp.  The Air Force proved to be the parental guidance he needed.  Struggling with authority would prove to be a problem for him.  Spending 20 years of his life in the Air Force was the pride of his life.  After he retired he continued to be in the Air Force Association and was always active in base activities.  He retired to Jacksonville, Arkansas were he became established in his community.

Met my mother Rosalie in Albuquerque, New Mexico where they married.  My dad had a Boston accent and when he first met my mom, he told her his name was Ott.  She though his name was Otto and was surprised to find out his name was Art.  Rosalie was adored and loved for 65 years until his death on Sept. 11, 2021.

First memories of my dad are in Tucson, Arizona.  I can remember him letting me help paint a picket fence in the front yard, feeding ducks in the lake and walking to the store.  One of my favorite memories is him taking me roller skating when I was 5.  Growing up ice skating, he was a wonderful skater.  He held me up, taught me to skate and even moved me around the rink like we were dancing.  I enjoyed skating my whole life.

Moving was a part of our lives, I was born in California, then Arizona, Massachusetts, France, Germany, Massachusetts and then Arkansas.  Dad would take me on walks when we lived in Europe, I believe that is where my love of walking in nature came from.  Looking at bugs, playing in streams and picking flowers.  

The Red Sox, Notre Dame and the Bruins were favorites.  Boxing, wrestling and politics.  Ha!  It was loud, we were suppose to be quiet and he loved watching them.

My father was a community orientated man, he participated in everything he loved.  Coaching baseball, soft ball, calling bingo at church, teaching Sunday School, boy scouts, Knights of Colombus and his beloved Air Force Association.  I feel that his childhood being devoid of these things led him to be a strong influence to help other kids.  As people have been telling stories about him after his death, I realize how many people he influenced in a positive way.

Education was something that was self taught as he grew up. As we went through school, he read every school book we brought home.  Helping us with our homework could be traumatic sometimes because of his temper.  At the same time you could tell he cared and I would have never learned to read or do math without the flash cards he made.  I've never been diagnosed, but I know I am dyslexic.  When I look back at the trouble I had reading, that would only make sense.  Numbers and letters didn't come easy to me, I saw them in a different way.  Flash cards was a nightly routine.  I finally got it in the third grade, I was thrilled.  I read everything I could pick up.  Math continues to be a challenge for me.  Ha!  The library would be a refuge as I grew up.

Dad was always there to help, he helped neighbors, people at church and if we needed anything he was always there.  It strikes me this is what I loved so very much about him and about my husband Phil.  Phil had that same feeling, he just wanted to help.  

Laughter, Irish music and teasing filled the home.  Everyone knew him, he always had a nice word, a slug to the arm or a nugie to head.  I've been rapped on the head a couple of times with his Air Force ring, he was feisty, and would pick you up throw you over his shoulder and run off with you.

I'm broken hearted, I'm going to miss him, because he was always there for me no matter what.

He was my dad.

 I'm keeping up with my 365 day pledge to myself, here are the few photos from today.

The first thing I saw this morning was a little fire engine, it reminded me of you Phil.  I'd like to think it was a showing of support from you.

For Phil

You are always with me.

I miss those hugs most of all!

I went to bed and got back up to add photos of dad's family.  I know that he would want the people in his life to have their photos here.... Here's what I have, I will label them later.