the "to every day there is a season the stuff we're made of count your blessings post" - part 1

This our "blue" time of year folks... November 10th marks the second anniversary of MY little one's father's death... a strong and inspiring and loving man who left us way too soon... the season change and more all add up to weary us and give us pause to ask all the old questions without answers... the "why's" you know... in doing that I decided our energy would be better spent in sharing some of "the stuff we're made of"... so much more than DNA... and "why" it really is "worth it"...

So we're going to have a bit of a celebration of fathers (mine was killed when I was only five if you recall) in honor and in love and in respect and in hope... and I encourage you all (on your own blogs perhaps)... to talk about your "stuff" in this context (not necessarily your fathers)... to celebrate our blessings along with MY little one and me... we'll post some "truth" on an ongoing basis from time to time... in honor and in love and in respect and in hope...

I'll go first...

there was a wonderful traditional italian bakery in my home town... they only made a few hundred loaves a day of the best hard crust bread you can imagine, and my father would wake my sister and i at 5 AM every saturday morning so we could get our share before they sold out... the scene was always the same... the tiny white block bakery building, the incredible smell of fresh bread and the sight of the wood fired stone ovens tended by brothers who loved their toil and thanked heaven for the chance to be alive...

we'd buy our bread and climb into the back of the old sedan (foreshadowing another post), getting a stern warning from my father each and every time... on the way home, my sister and i would lop the end off one still hot loaf and scoop the soft warm insides into our eager tummies... dad always yelled when we got home with one loaf wiped out and then he'd take the crusty remains and have them with milk and a little sugar holding my sister and i on his strong and loving knee...

everything about our little "ritual" is like yesterday to me... blessed am i, my father's son and more...