2015...part twoish.

First off, I am so obnoxiously thorough, like every step of every processes is extremely important to me. So, I sat down and was trying to write out my yearly resolution post. (You know the one, with the promises of a me that will be WAY better at writing in the blog.) When trying to figure out how to start the post, I decided to tell a little bit about my dad and explain why the process of losing him was crucial to this year's Blog Resolution. By the time I was finished typing, I realized it was several paragraphs long, tons and tons of words, and that I had written down every moment that I could possibly remember of the last seven months. So in my thoroughness to explain why I chose this resolution, I really ended up spilling every part of me on the screen. I read it over and over and over and over, and felt the heaviness of my words and knew how people (like the two people that actually read my blog?) would feel bad for me when they had read about my heart breaking over him. It wasn't even that sharing was hard or embarrassing or even wrong, but it was sad. so unbelievably sad. So rather than telling the story, I'll just kind of explain what I'm going to do and why I thought of it... hence, the "part twoish".

When my dad first got bad, about seven months ago, we started going over there regularly. Started every couple days, then every other, then daily, and then someone in the morning and someone in the evening. We got him a caregiver and tried to make very little time for him to be alone. I know it was slowly eating Maile, Hannah, and myself, but there was really no alternative. We looked into programs and tried to move towards that, but everything was such a process. Paperwork: proof of who he was, proof of his illness, proof of disability, proof of how much we made, proof proof proof paper paper paper. We would wake up early, go to work, one of us would call him and let the other two know that we called. Then we'd continually call throughout the day and when he didn't answer we'd worry and worry and worry. Then we'd get off work, we'd decide and dinner and we'd head over there. Everyday was a different combination of us, and sometimes all three. We'd spend all weekend there, making sure he was comfortable and not alone. We'd come home and get a few hours of sleep and do it over and over. We were so busy, we never talked to each other... I mean we hardly even saw each other.

During the first part of dad getting sick, Lindsay gave birth to our sweetest Tommy Boy.

Before he became the big headed love of our lives he is today, 

he was stuck in the hospital for a long time. It was so heartbreaking to watch Lindsay be so sad and us be unable to help. So we'd spend time with her kids and visit at the hospital when it wasn't our shift with dad. I'd try to get off work early, in hopes that I could do both. After almost forever, Tommy started to get better. He was health(ier) and we were so happy to see them head back to the Hogge house. 

During Dad's final days, we'd spend every waking moment in the hospital or the hospice. We enjoyed a lot of time with our older siblings and were hardly ever home or alone. We spent the days laughing, crying, and waiting.... and waiting.... and waiting.... 

After Dad passed, there was this whirlwind of people everywhere. Our siblings were in town, our Webster family reunion was that weekend, it was Thanksgiving, and we were having a funeral. We had to get things planned, people invited, songs practiced, talks written, food prepared, paperwork filled, final goodbyes finished. All while trying not to break down.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there was just.. never a moment to stop and enjoy anything. I would sit down to watch TV or a read a book, only to feel the guilt of not checking on my dad or making sure my homework was done or my paperwork for work was finished up or realizing that I should really try and sleep instead of watch TV.  So, remember me saying how thorough I am?, now to the point of why I wrote this whole thing... 

My blog resolution this year is to find something everyday, small or big, and let it make me happy for a little bit of my day. I'm going to try to take pictures of it all and will probably succeed at that, but posting it weekly will be more of challenge. 

you know, at least this explanation part is done right? this was half the battle right here. Anyway, happy 2015. This is mainly to Rachael, here's to a year where you hopefully don't have to get mad at me in March because I already gave up blogging :) love you.