Thursday, February 3, 2011

Sometimes life sucks.

So here it is February, and in the world of bloggers I believe my first run of this would be considered a failure. I started this online diary of sorts to document the progression of my business and keep all updated on new wares. I was doing ok trying to balance self- motivated creation and the hum drum of the everyday,  until life throws you a curve ball and it knocks you down, breathless and wounded. That's me right now.

 I am only who I am, and pursuing the dream of doing what I love because of who I come from. My parents, my sturdy supports since day one, when I was jaundice and bug eyed. They loved me unconditionally and worked, slaved even, to give me all they didn't have. The outcome: I became bound to them not by blood but admiration. They spur inspiration through me, the urge to do right by them, and take what they gave me and pass it on, to everyone strangers, friends, children. I'd like to think I am on that path, the one that eventually leads me to giving what they gave and then some, each generation moving up slowly and cherishing every step, every memory. Its magical really there's no better word to explain the welling up of emotion that parents are able to cause, how they're actions really can change who you become. I could not have had better.

My wound is new, my father, my hero passed away on January 7th, 2011. Even now typing those words seems surreal. He was larger than life, making each day a productive adventure, filled with allure and lessons. He made me hair clips out of sequins and flowers on clear strings with baby pearls, he was so creative and kind that way. I wore them with pride the only girl in town who had accessories made by her Dad. Concocting halloween costumes out of foam, or shiny plastic goblets to make my brothers suit of armor. Everything was always precise, he had a vision and would make it come to life. He built our second house from scratch, laundry chute and all. He would fluff my feather bed till it almost reached the sky to my young eyes, and I would fall backwards into it with a huge "puff", tucked in my canopy with my beloved Bubba bear gifted by him, he would sing me a lullaby "in tones so sweet and low". There are endless memories that I can recall and through them he will live on. Through my future family, and the things I will create in his honor. Yes, I have big shoes to fill: ice skating rinks in the yard, a spin in a utility tarp, Baby Lion, samurai sword play complete with a song, a tree house that would have had running heat,  colored pancakes based on the season, a game of catch with nothing but a paper bag that could go on for hours, acrobatics on his arms, glow necklaces' around our limbs at night at a water park down slides we went glowing, conversation so true and real, we could talk the day away, he spoke to people as an equal not just as a child, or a different generation, or a daughter and that made you, me and us feel special. Everything with him was special, even as I aged I sometimes thought he might have created a monster. I wanting to hold on to every last drop of a memory, would place value on things that reminded me of them. He was more practical than me in that arena, saving only what could be used again, the finishing touch on a project. And man when he pulled out that thing that you absolutely needed, the magic ignited all over again, how did he do that?! His mantra for a lot of things was always quality not quantity, he lived his life that way. Didn't waste time with people he felt held down or irritated by, always moving, doing multiple jobs at once, had a tool for every problem, and if he didn't know how to fix it he would learn. And by learn I mean perfect. It was always the best with Dad, he hated crap- from shoe laces to cars, friends and family he wanted the best and that is what he deserved.

As I have mentioned before I am getting married in September, at my parents house under their wedding arch, all done by design, out of the deepest love and respect for their epic romance. I can only hope to emulate what they have grown into. A messy ball of love, still companions and full  of romance after what was to be 30 years of marriage. They are the most passionate couple I know, and god you just can't beat that as far as examples go.

He might not be here in flesh and blood, but he will always be here in spirit, and probably a cardboard cutout that I plan on keeping in my closet for those really terrible days (yes, I have issues). His legacy will go on through us, and the people we have yet to meet and create.

I love you Daddy <3

"You keep your dreams and aspirations- the world has enough mediocrity.
  You're life is meant for so much more!
  Happy Birthday Shea
  You'll always be my girl
 Love,
      Dad"- William E. Keating

Who is and will always be an endless source of inspiration and love for me.





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