If I had a dime everytime that I heard this during my childhood, I'd be rich!
If I didn't want to eat cream corn (who does??) and I would start to tear up...DRY IT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!
I wasn't allowed to go on a date until I was sixteen and I had been asked out by this extremely hot, older boy. I repeatedly asked permission and was denied each time...DRY IT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!
I was 18 and my annoying little brother yelled at the police and managed to get himself taken to the police station...somehow this was entirely my fault and I was GROUNDED home from college. For two weeks I had to come home on the weekend and stay home with my parents. I really wanted to go to a party one night, so I asked nicely, batted my eyes, but was still denied. Crushed, I started to cry...DRY IT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!
You get the idea? Any disappointment, no matter how big or small, I was given this line. Get over it! What is the point of crying about it? It's not going to change the outcome, so why cry?
As my Dad's birthday approached quickly this year, it was fairly easy for me to contain the tears. We scurried to wrap presents, visit with all of the people in town from near and far, attend Christmas concerts, send Christmas cards, you know the normal hustle and bustle that comes with the season. When I started to feel sad, I thought of the one thousand things that needed to be done and I was able to supress/escape the pain. Today is Christmas Eve, my Dad's birthday.
All of my presents are wrapped. All of my cards are sent. I don't have to be anywhere until 6pm except a quick visit to the nursing home. No obligations, no last minute errands to run, nowhere to escape. I'll take it as my sign to sit and watch, remember and reflect.
Dear Dad,
In the days leading up to today I thought about going to the cemetary. Last night I bought balloons for the kids to release so they can tell you Happy Birthday. I'm going to take them out there for a quick visit this afternoon. They still ask about you all the time. They wonder why you can't come back. They wonder why you can't be here for their birthdays and Christmas and vacations and to read them a book. They wonder why and how you got cancer. They worry that I will get cancer or that Daddy or Mimi or Grandma or Grandpa or Papa or Nana or ...some nights they run through a list of everyone they know asking me if they will get cancer. It's difficult for me to talk about why you had cancer because I think eventually we all get the freaking disease. Right now I know two little children, not like I heard about them on television, nope, right here in Woodville and Pemberville, that are fighting the dreaded disease! Doug's son-in-law was diagnosed and he's Jake's age. It's all around me. But to the children I have to pretend that you are the only one that will get it. They know that you are not the only person to have it, but certainly you have the only one that will die from it...at least this is what I lead them to believe. They know Connor and know of Belle (the children with the dreaded c word) and we can't have them thinking anything but happy cure thoughts for their peers! So far all of their prognosis's look great and I pray that they do not suffer any further setbacks.
Lilly prays for them often. Her mind seems to operate like someone you know as your daughter. She struggles with an issue in her head until she finds the answer or seeks one. She lays in bed thinking until she finally creeps down the stairs to ask if I signed her reading log or if someone will be there to pick her up from Good News Club. She never stops thinking. She still sleeps with Mr. Ugly Bear. She still gets offended when I call it that;) She misses you. I do too.
Camille seems to have less Runion blood in her than the other two children as far as her outward appearance, but the temper...she's right on the mark, Mark Lee! Her temper can flare instantly and then she apologizes when she calms down...I don't know anyone that acts like this on the Runion side;) She just can't get enough kisses and cuddles from me, she senses when I'm sad and she hugs me tighter. Her cheeks have thinned out since you left us and she has lost all of her baby fat. You would just eat her up. She's consumed with trying to be "cool" right now...it's an insult to her if I call her cute.
Keegan is the most bullheaded out of the three. He simply will NOT give up if he sets his mind on something. Last night he woke up and used the bathroom. He decided he wanted a drink and I told him "no, go back to bed." Cried and cried and cried...until I finally brought him a drink. Unbelievable! He is so stinkin' cute though I don't stay mad for long. He's super skinny too, but he still has chubby cheeks...Mom has trained him that one is my cheek and one is hers for kissing;)
I don't get out the pictures of you often enough for them. It's still too hard for me to look at them most of the time. They all ask about you all the time. When I walked in with balloons they were so excited. I told them that they were for you and Keegan excitedely asked "is he coming back!!???" I told him, no, we're going to send them to heaven. He is sending you a black one since it's his favorite color. Camille's is purple and Lilly's is green.
They let me sleep in this morning, but as soon as I woke up I thought of you. Our Christmas weekend started off with a family dinner you would be proud of. Aaron is becoming quite the cook these days. Even with the grill starting on fire, the prime rib was yummy and the company was even better. We all sat at one table and passed everything back and forth...just like we used to at Granny's. The kids love Uncle Jake and Aunt Laine and it was nice to have them all to ourselves for a visit with mom.
Anyways, just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you. I hope you like the cards the kids are sending with their balloons! Now, I'm going to dry it up so you don't give me something to cry about. I love you and miss you. I will eat lots of shrimp and monkey tators tonight. Happy Birthday!
Love,
Laura
PS: I passed Sycamore Grove yesterday after a funeral visitation. I wish I could go back in time and be a fly on the wall when you guys frequented that place...well Uncle Paul actually said you practically lived there;)
If I didn't want to eat cream corn (who does??) and I would start to tear up...DRY IT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!
I wasn't allowed to go on a date until I was sixteen and I had been asked out by this extremely hot, older boy. I repeatedly asked permission and was denied each time...DRY IT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!
I was 18 and my annoying little brother yelled at the police and managed to get himself taken to the police station...somehow this was entirely my fault and I was GROUNDED home from college. For two weeks I had to come home on the weekend and stay home with my parents. I really wanted to go to a party one night, so I asked nicely, batted my eyes, but was still denied. Crushed, I started to cry...DRY IT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!
You get the idea? Any disappointment, no matter how big or small, I was given this line. Get over it! What is the point of crying about it? It's not going to change the outcome, so why cry?
As my Dad's birthday approached quickly this year, it was fairly easy for me to contain the tears. We scurried to wrap presents, visit with all of the people in town from near and far, attend Christmas concerts, send Christmas cards, you know the normal hustle and bustle that comes with the season. When I started to feel sad, I thought of the one thousand things that needed to be done and I was able to supress/escape the pain. Today is Christmas Eve, my Dad's birthday.
All of my presents are wrapped. All of my cards are sent. I don't have to be anywhere until 6pm except a quick visit to the nursing home. No obligations, no last minute errands to run, nowhere to escape. I'll take it as my sign to sit and watch, remember and reflect.
Dear Dad,
In the days leading up to today I thought about going to the cemetary. Last night I bought balloons for the kids to release so they can tell you Happy Birthday. I'm going to take them out there for a quick visit this afternoon. They still ask about you all the time. They wonder why you can't come back. They wonder why you can't be here for their birthdays and Christmas and vacations and to read them a book. They wonder why and how you got cancer. They worry that I will get cancer or that Daddy or Mimi or Grandma or Grandpa or Papa or Nana or ...some nights they run through a list of everyone they know asking me if they will get cancer. It's difficult for me to talk about why you had cancer because I think eventually we all get the freaking disease. Right now I know two little children, not like I heard about them on television, nope, right here in Woodville and Pemberville, that are fighting the dreaded disease! Doug's son-in-law was diagnosed and he's Jake's age. It's all around me. But to the children I have to pretend that you are the only one that will get it. They know that you are not the only person to have it, but certainly you have the only one that will die from it...at least this is what I lead them to believe. They know Connor and know of Belle (the children with the dreaded c word) and we can't have them thinking anything but happy cure thoughts for their peers! So far all of their prognosis's look great and I pray that they do not suffer any further setbacks.
Lilly prays for them often. Her mind seems to operate like someone you know as your daughter. She struggles with an issue in her head until she finds the answer or seeks one. She lays in bed thinking until she finally creeps down the stairs to ask if I signed her reading log or if someone will be there to pick her up from Good News Club. She never stops thinking. She still sleeps with Mr. Ugly Bear. She still gets offended when I call it that;) She misses you. I do too.
Camille seems to have less Runion blood in her than the other two children as far as her outward appearance, but the temper...she's right on the mark, Mark Lee! Her temper can flare instantly and then she apologizes when she calms down...I don't know anyone that acts like this on the Runion side;) She just can't get enough kisses and cuddles from me, she senses when I'm sad and she hugs me tighter. Her cheeks have thinned out since you left us and she has lost all of her baby fat. You would just eat her up. She's consumed with trying to be "cool" right now...it's an insult to her if I call her cute.
Keegan is the most bullheaded out of the three. He simply will NOT give up if he sets his mind on something. Last night he woke up and used the bathroom. He decided he wanted a drink and I told him "no, go back to bed." Cried and cried and cried...until I finally brought him a drink. Unbelievable! He is so stinkin' cute though I don't stay mad for long. He's super skinny too, but he still has chubby cheeks...Mom has trained him that one is my cheek and one is hers for kissing;)
I don't get out the pictures of you often enough for them. It's still too hard for me to look at them most of the time. They all ask about you all the time. When I walked in with balloons they were so excited. I told them that they were for you and Keegan excitedely asked "is he coming back!!???" I told him, no, we're going to send them to heaven. He is sending you a black one since it's his favorite color. Camille's is purple and Lilly's is green.
They let me sleep in this morning, but as soon as I woke up I thought of you. Our Christmas weekend started off with a family dinner you would be proud of. Aaron is becoming quite the cook these days. Even with the grill starting on fire, the prime rib was yummy and the company was even better. We all sat at one table and passed everything back and forth...just like we used to at Granny's. The kids love Uncle Jake and Aunt Laine and it was nice to have them all to ourselves for a visit with mom.
Anyways, just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you. I hope you like the cards the kids are sending with their balloons! Now, I'm going to dry it up so you don't give me something to cry about. I love you and miss you. I will eat lots of shrimp and monkey tators tonight. Happy Birthday!
Love,
Laura
PS: I passed Sycamore Grove yesterday after a funeral visitation. I wish I could go back in time and be a fly on the wall when you guys frequented that place...well Uncle Paul actually said you practically lived there;)
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