Today I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be a DAD, especially as the Professor and I are about to embark on our own expedition into the world of parenthood. We have many different types of fathers in our lives – biological, adopted, step, in-law. Dads show us how the world works, rescue us when we when make mistakes or encounter an episode of bad luck, help us learn how to manage on our own, and most importantly they love us. Sometimes you have to find someone who can fulfill that role for you, or know when to find the strength to be your own dad.

I’m thankful for my dad, Bruce, for teaching me to appreciate ice cream, union suits, oatmeal, Neil Young & George Harrison. For the whole record collection. For showing me that pets are family, and to respect all wild animals. For walking me down the aisle. For the hummingbird skills, the invaluable help with HVAC and plumbing, and advice about home-ownership. For taking me turtle hunting, and driving me to orchestra rehearsal. For the artistry of making-do (or what my husband might call a proficiency in hillybilly-ness). For picking me up from college, when I just needed to come home. For his creativity in the kitchen and serving wild animals for dinner. For silly jokes and nicknames.

I’m thankful for my Papa Ray, who taught me how to sit back, take it easy, and a enjoy a beer! For the knack of collecting things (things that possibly could become useful later!) and collecting animals and plants. For my Tennessee roots.

I’m thankful to Cork for the knitting expertise.

I’m thankful for my father-in-law George, who is always there when we need him. For providing us with sound advice. For the many hours of guidance through home improvement projects. For making me feel like one of his own.

I’m thankful for my step-father Ed. For assisting us with any and all automotive issues. For being someone we can count on 24/7 – we know we can call him any time. And for taking care of my mom.

Tonight I’m raising a glass (of sparkling non-alcoholic apple cider!) in a toast to all the dads who walk with us down the path of life. To all the fathers out there who are doing their best. To my friends, the new generation of dads, who are redefining the role. To all the men (and women) in my life who have advised, nurtured, and taught me – uncles, aunts, professors, neighbors, and buddies included. THANK YOU! & Happy Fathers Day!

Yesterday my Aunt Darlene ended her 10 year long battle with breast and ovarian cancer. I am rejoicing for she is no longer suffering and her soul is at peace. But I am weeping for myself and the idea that she is gone from the world I know. We will all miss her terribly, and look forward to seeing her again when it is our time.

In all of her 65 years, she was the feistiest firecracker to anyone who knew her. She was extremely loving and caring, and often took sick or abandoned animals (and people!) under her mother-hen wing to give them what they needed most. Parrots, parakeets, a cockatoo, ferrets, a rat, a blind puppy, a spaniel, a poodle, and several yorkies were some of the pets she had over her lifetime. Her houseplant collection was equally extensive and she could bring a rare orchid not only back to life but convince it to bloom again.

As kind and generous as she was, Aunt Dar also had a sharp tongue and was quick to speak her mind if she felt you were stepping out of line. She only had a couple of strict rules but other than that, it was “anything goes”, especially when it came to food. An abundance of fritos and dill dip, frosting on toast, strawberry milk, and peanut butter filled the kitchen – whatever you wanted you could enjoy – and there was always a chocolate cake under her cake dome and/or a cheesecake in the refrigerator. Any movie you wanted to watch was also fair game – the scarier, the better!

Hosting and housekeeping were serious business to her. The house was always spotless, the laundry was done, and the beds were made. When she was ambitiously preparing food for a feast, she had to do it all herself because she had specific ways of doing things. (My husband will now know where I get this “kitchen-nazi” trait from.) The kitchen was her domain and her little kitchen television was always on playing the daytime talk/soap/gameshow of the hour.

She was the matriarch of our family for a long time. When I was a little girl, we would all gather under her roof for most family events, especially in the summer time where most of our time was spent around the pool. She was always in a bikini with her permed hair in a banana clip. Additionally, she would have JUST ME over for a fun sleepover every so often and I felt so special being doted upon by Aunt Dar. I would draw pictures for her of our family and pets. The one I remember best was an elaborate drawing of my cousin Kim swimming with a shark in the ocean.

She loved arts and crafts and would pick up new hobbies all the time – painting, crocheting, ribbon embroidery, needlepoint, sewing, spinning, and weaving. Creativity and thrifting were her forte and she would frequently find or turn old things into new treasures by painting or refinishing them. She was constantly on the prowl for garage or estate sales and it would turn into a game to see who could find the best diamond-in-the-rough or get the best deal.

Music was a big part of her life and she was mostly self-taught. Her slender fingers decorated with rings, and nails always painted, would play the organ (thrifted from an estate sale, of course) that she had in her living room. She would research and learn to play more antiquated instruments like the accordion or the psaltery, and even had a hand in making some of them herself.

Her other interests included participating in reenacting Victorian and Colonial ways of life. On weekends she could many a time be found at events and festivals where she would wear long flowing gowns and corsets and sell her silver wares to the crowds that would come to enjoy the atmosphere, sometimes gathering to hear her play one of her instruments. Velvets and laces and dangley ear-bobs were a mainstay of her wardrobe. They would sleep in canvas tents and live by candlelight. There was so much joy for her in these productions.

When she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2003 none of  us knew how much longer we would have with her. As thankful as I am for the past decade, I know it was very difficult for her. Several years later when ovarian cancer came into the picture, it was revealed through genetic testing that her DNA contained a mutation in the BRCA2 gene, and that we could all be at risk. My sister and I somehow managed to dodge that bullet and both were found to be negative. Our mother, however, found out that she had the mutation. Aunt Dar convinced my mom to take proper measures, including two surgeries, to nearly eliminate her chances of getting cancer. She didn’t want my mom to go through what she had. I can’t thank her enough for her bravery in seeking out the genetic testing and her willingness to share that knowledge with others. In my opinion she saved my mom’s life and I guess I have a bit of survivor’s guilt because of that.

My Aunt Darlene was a daughter, a mother, a sister, an aunt, a wife, a friend to many. She brought scores of people together, but at times was a lone-wolf herself. To me she was life. She was beauty and intelligence. She was magic. An artist, a caregiver, a teacher. She was my “Stevie Nicks” gypsy, living on the fringe, marching to beat of her own drum and I loved being there marching right along with her when I had the chance.

here I am! more on the way soon… but for now, enjoy this photo of the cats.

STARRING Monkey and Elvis as themselves. Where they lack brains they more than compensate in the form of fluffiness, allergens, and most of all, adorabilityness.