His Smell is Almost Gone and 10 Things

My dad died in the summer time, June.

But, December is when I miss him.  December is when I get nostalgic and thoughtful.

December is when I was with him last.

This is one of the only physical things I have, that was his, this shirt and some of his books.

I wish I'd put it in a plastic bag right when I'd gotten it.

The smell is almost gone, his smell is almost totally gone.

I don't miss him all of the time, but when I do I hold his shirt, I smell it and I think about him.

I love him so much.

The other night G asked me a question, I don't remember what it was, but it was in reference to my dad.  I just remember that my answer was in regards to my dad being an incredibly smart man.  G seemed surprised, of course all he remembers is that his grandpa was handicapped.

Earlier this month marked the 10 year reunion of Matt's dad'd death.  He mentioned it in our family meeting.  We didn't talk about it much.

What in the world?  My kids don't know either of their grandpas.

We have not done well, at all, of keeping their memory alive, so as our kids grow, they know who they come from, their heritage.

I talked to Matt that night and decided each December, at one of our family meetings we will talk about our grandpa's.  We will share memories and facts, loves and frustrations,their stories and our stories about these two men who were our fathers.

We will hold off until this next Sunday, my mom will be here (yea!) and who better to share stories about my dad - at least - than my mom?

I came up with 10 random things I'll bring up with my kids about my dad...

- I think this is so funny, that he hid food under his bed!  It was good stuff, that he didn't want to have to share!

Really, if you are the father, you tell your kids to keep their hands off of the things that are yours right?  Maybe put them up high in the pantry so they can't get to them.  Maybe we didn't have enough respect for him, maybe under the bed was most easily accessible, either way it is something that is for sure my dad!

- My father was always very disciplined.  Pre and post stroke he was a creature of good habit and discipline.  He set goals, he reached for personal betterment, he was regimented and structured.  I respect him greatly for this.

- Brent D Cooper was so very smart.  Mom tells me all the time that my M reminds her of my dad.  He had such a good mind.  I know a lot of it was lost with his stroke, but when I stand with him, after my time here is done, I want to know how much of it he lost.  My guess is he had more than we knew, but just couldn't communicate it.  

- My dad was a writer.  He kept journals, he wrote articles.  Most of my artistic abilities I credit to my mom.  Writing, that comes from my dad.  * I linked to each of my dad's Ensign articles on my 'Feast' blog.  They are on the sidebar.

- Having to tie your dad's shoes for most of your life is humbling.  I get so frustrated when I ask my kids to do a simple task and they complain.  I'm sure I didn't always want to tie his shoes, but I don't ever remember complaining.  I hope I didn't.  As my father, who couldn't do this for himself, I would always stop and take 40 seconds to tie his shoes for him.  Sometimes I'd see them tucked into his shoes, because no one was home when he'd put them on.  I'd offer to tie them for him when I saw they weren't done.  I'm so grateful to have been able to serve him, just by tying his shoes.

- Dad went to Taiwan to do research for a book one of his professors was writing.  I remember the statues that stood in our house, the green silk shawl he brought home for my mom.  She is actually bringing some of these things out to me when she comes.

- One of my favorite photos is of my dad with all of us gathered around him.  One is on his lap, there are kids next to him, some on the couch.  He read scriptures with us daily and we had family prayer, daily.  He is the example, my guide for the habits I teach in my home.  They have shaped me for good and no matter how hard, even on the days I just want to send them all to bed, I know of it's importance.  I rocked my kids for years.  I've stopped but want to start again, just need a bigger chair!

- He had several career changes.  We moved to Utah because he began working for the LDS church, in the 'Church Welfare' department.  He worked there up until he had his stroke.

- My oldest sister brought home a dog, a little cocker spaniel/poodle mix.  This is not the first animal that came into our home, but post stroke, she was the first who got to stay.  She ended up being one of my dad's best friends.  That dog brought such joy into his life, two peas in a pod.  He didn't have to say anything, and she'd run to the door.  She knew when he wanted to walk around the block.  Neither of them needed words, but unlike most of us she didn't care.  She knew him, and he needed that.

- I know how frustrated and sometimes devastated I feel when I know what I'm trying to say, but don't have the words... and I have my verbal skills (although sometimes limited!).  To know what I'm trying to say and not have words, just words, oh the frustration!  When he would get frustrated after trying and trying he would run his fingers through his hair, starting at his part going across, he would do it several times.  If the words still didn't come...he'd fall to silence.  Sigh.  Tsk.  Then say "No matter".