Amy

You are kind. Funny how silly thoughts pop in your head. Then I move on.

Thom

Very nice. Thank you.

Amy

This is about turning points in our lives, those moments when we have a realization. My father had only an eighth-grade education but he excelled in the steel industry of Western PA. He was a foreman at the Nation Forge in Irving PA. He had a supportive wife and three children, two of which had visual disabilities. He paid for my education, my sister’s wedding and subsequent divorce, and for the machinery that enabled my brother to start his carpentry business. He was a gruff father who made it clear that only sissies cry when they skin their knees. The first time he told me he loved me was over the phone after the birth of my second child who was born prematurely. Now he is retired, with numerous grandchildren and great grandchildren. For me, my turning point in my relationship with my father came during Halloween this last year. I was at his and my mother’s home to take my boys trick-or-treating for the first time. The youngest grandchildren and great grandchildren had put on their costumes and were ready for the night’s events; that is except for my eight-year old Nathaniel. He had yet to put on his costume. I was yelling at him to hurry up and was agitated. My father said to me “Take it easy, he is only a child and having a good time.” I quickly responded: “Who are you and what have you done with my father?” He took my face in his hands and kissed my cheek. I wonder whose turning point this was, was it my father’s or mine? Perhaps it was forgiveness and understanding from both a father and daughter.

Amy

I churned this out quickly after your last post. I hope you forgive the typos. Your last post prompted the following: This is about turning points in our lives, those moments when we have a realization. My father had only an eighth-grade education but he excelled in the steel industry of Western PA. He was a foreman at the Nationak Forge in Irving PA. He had a supportive wife and three children, two of whom had visual disabilities. He paid for my education, my sister’s wedding and subsequent divorce, and for the machinery that enabled my brother to start his carpentry business. He was a gruff father who made it clear that only sissies cry when they skin their knees. The first time he told me he loved me was over the phone after the birth of my second child who was born prematurely. Now he is retired, with numerous grandchildren and great grandchildren. For me, my turning point in my relationship with my father came during Halloween this last year. I was at his and my mother’s home to take my boys trick-or-treating for the first time. The youngest grandchildren and great grandchildren had put on their costumes and were ready for the night’s events; that is except for my eight-year old Nathaniel. He had yet to put on his costume. I was yelling at him to hurry up and was agitated. My father said to me “Take it easy, he is only a child and having a good time.” I quickly responded: “Who are you and what have you done with my father?” He took my face in his hands and kissed my cheek. I wonder whose turning point this was, was it my father’s or mine? Perhaps it was forgiveness and understanding from both a father and daughter.

Thom

The best thing about anniversaries is that you are around to remember them. They are a testament to your strength.

Amy

Perhaps you, if anyone understands. You had talked about your anniversaries so I know you understand the milestones we note in our private thoughts. Today is my oldest son’s 9th birthday. But I remember only two years ago waiting for my hair to grow back after chemotherapy. Back then, my joy was running behind my boys as we taught them to ride their bikes, something I dreamt about during treatment. In my thoughts I recount my fears and emotions about cancer each time I lift the page of the calendar to turn it as if I am celebrating a victory over the thief that stole my security. I feel strong this year and am grateful I am here with my children. Amy