I have been blessed this week with being able to not only get needed supplies but also time to work on projects.  It has, however, brought on memories of Dad with my needlework projects.  I must admit, though, I had Mom's help with how he felt or reacted to sewing, needlepoint, knitting and even quilting.  Our Mom did a lot of sewing (making a lot of our clothes as we grew up) and knitting or needlepoint.  So Dad was used to "projects" being started, worked on and even (sometimes) finished.

When we were traveling he, unlike others in the family who would tell me the store was "closed for inventory," was quite willing to stop at quilt stores or yarn shops.  He would either sit, read a book and wait OR he would "come in with me" and make new friends.  Dad could make new friends anywhere!  Because he was willing to stop I made quilts (and sweaters) for him - most of which we gave away.

Of course he could also bug me when there was a project going.  I learned, quickly, not to try to learn a new thing, have to do a lot of counting or work from a graph - knitting especially while he was around.  It never failed, when I did try, he would interrupt in some way, shape or form so I would lose my place.  He could also put pressure on if he wanted something - like the needlepoint of the "Joseph" Chagall window.  "If I could just have it before I died........."  Like I've said... sometimes you have to laugh or you will start screaming!

(Yes, we got the needlepoint done for him years​ before he died!)

Memories have been strong this week because of Father's Day, Flag Day and what would have been our parents 78th wedding anniversary.  One of the memories is of how often Dad could get me in trouble at meetings.  Sitting next to Dad could be a challenge because he would make comments causing at least smiles if not laughter.  No one ever "blamed" him especially if it was a meeting he was wearing his clerical collar.  Mom used to ask if she needed to sit between us.

The other memory is about names and reactions.  I went back to my maiden name at the time of my divorce.  The problem was people would look at Dad, and me, like we must be "together."  Calling him Dad didn't change anything because a lot of his generation called their spouse "Mom" or "Dad."  Having Mom standing next to us didn't change anything either.  Dad, and I, got to where we just laughed, because - like I've said - it is easier to laugh than to start screaming. 

​And....... the memories still cause smiles at least.  Good memories to have.....

Have you ever "lost" the person you were traveling with?  Dad and I traveled together quite a bit and, most of the time, we knew where each other was.  I was asked, on at least one cruise, where "the Poppa" was.  I said I had no idea but he couldn't get off the ship (we were "at sea" that day) so he would show up eventually.  He did.

This particular time, when HE got lost, was at the Science Museum in Chicago.  We were visiting family and took a side trip.  Dad promised me he would sit on "that" bench and wait for me to go through this one exhibit.  You guessed it.....  I got back to the bench and NO Dad...anywhere.  I'm searching all over, thinking I will ask security to help find "a white haired gentleman" walking with a cane.  I also seriously considered standing in the middle of the rotunda and yelling DAD! like a little kid.  I was heading for the security/reception desk when I finally found him.  He had decided to go to the souvenir shop, get what he wanted and wait for me "because he knew I would want souvenirs."

​Like I've said before.....  Sometimes you have to laugh or you will start screaming!

I don't know about you but it was an interesting Memorial Day, for me and the area around me, this year.  It started with the National program, on PBS, was Sunday night instead of Monday night.  Then Monday an unexpected meeting added to interesting weather.  I got home from the meeting in time to go into the basement for the rest of the afternoon.

My favorite thing about Memorial Day, however, is when the music is the various military hymns/songs.  I love when they ask those who have served (or are serving) to stand during their song.  Dad was in the Army Air Corp which became the Air Force.  Dad's older brother started in the Army Air Corp, became career and retired from the Air Force.  The last few times Dad had to use his walker but he did stand up.

A special memory is when Dad had to have surgery a few years before he died.  He was giving all of us a hard time before they rolled him "away."  As he left our "cubicle" he started singing "Off we go into the...."  You could hear him most of the way down the hall.  A very special memory to have!