Grandpa Frank

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September 30, 2008


Gracie’s Grandpa Frank finished his race today and went home to be with Jesus.


We will miss him, and while we grieve for the years that Grace will not know her grandpa, we are comforted by the pride, joy and love he had for his granddaughter this past year.


Dad was ecstatic to, finally, become a Grandfather, and never hesitated to share new pictures and stories about Gracie with all of his friends and neighbors, often several times!




Grandpa Frank with Grace, 5 days old.


Gracie and Grandpa, Christmas 2007

Father’s Day, 2008




Grace will grow up knowing her Grandpa Frank through the love and memories that we will share with her.


Dad, we hear you in her laughter…








A Father’s Prayer for Ladies Retreat…



5:00pm Friday

Dearest Lord and Father in heaven…

Please bless my wife and bring her back safe and healthy from Ladies retreat, having heard your voice and experienced your love.

Forgive me for not always putting my family first in my life, and let me be more like you.

Help me be a light, a blessing, and a joy to my children this weekend.

Bless the ladies of Living Hope and speak to them.

Thank you, Jesus, for my family, the blessing of my children, and all that they teach me…and thank you that my daughter likes hot-wings.



6:00 am Saturday

Dearest Lord in heaven…

Please bless my wife and bring her back safe and healthy.

Forgive me for feeding my daughter hot wings last night and let me get the stains out of the carpet.

Help me be a light to my children.

Bless our ladies.

Thank you, Jesus, for my family,



8:00pm Saturday

Dear Lord…

Please bring my wife back safe.

Forgive me for the words I said when the baby threw-up on my laptop.

Help me make it through the next twelve hours.

Bless the milk thats been on the counter since yesterday.

Thank you, Jesus, for nap-time, paper towels, and Veggie-Tales.



9:00am Sunday









Baby Girlz Caption Contest


Hey all,


As many of you know, I get to babysit for our church’s Women’s Bible-study.


Every once in a while I take the camera along and get a chance to capture a really special moment with the kids.


This morning, I caught my daughter Gracie pounding away on the piano, while her buddy Leilani belted out a tune (at least, that’s what it looked like to me…)


The “Baby Girlz” band was born…



So, who can come up with the best caption for this picture? What song was ‘Lani wowing the crowd with, while Gracie tickled the keys?


IE: “I did it Myyyyyy…Wayyyyyy….”




Re-post: The Gracie Video

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Hey all,


The buddy that had this video posted needed the space on his server, so I finally had to figure out how to upload it myself…


Gracie…about 5 months.






ps – I’ll link this to the original post and comments, as soon as I get them moved over here…it’s a pain.

Rookies Part II


“So…I’m sure there will be many more experiences even worse than these, but this is the first thing that has really made me say, “Oh…My…God…!”

Was it only two nights ago that I wrote that? How naive I was in those days.

It’s now day three of Gracie being sick. She’s still throwning up, and we’re forcing pedialite down her so she has something to throw up (per the advice nurse.) She is keeping down her meals, at least most of them, she usually doesn’t start throwing up until a couple hours afterward. So, at least she isn’t starving.

Everytime she starts heaving, she cries and looks back and forth between Vic and I as though asking us why we won’t make it stop.

If that weren’t bad enough, we have to subject her to the dreaded “snot bulb” every hour or so, and the thermometer twice a day (temp still normal), each of which only makes her cry harder…which makes her throw up again.

Any advice, Moms?

This part blows.


Rookies No More…


Well, if Vic and I were still “rookies,” as of 7:30pm tonight we will no longer accept that status.


Over the past 14 months I’ve been spit-up on many times, I’ve gotten the soaked-thru diapers against the chest, I’ve even had an unfortunate incident while removing a diaper (too quickly, as it turned out.)


But now…as I await MY turn at the shower, (Gracie first…then Vic) I know that all of those we’re just “cute little baby moments”.


Tonight I was vomited on for the first time.


I’m not talking about a little milk spit either, I’m mean full bore, belly-heaving, grown-up chunk blowing (10 minutes after dinner) that covered both Vic and I, as we tossed her back and forth like a hot-potato!


(That’s just me trying to be funny, Vic actually get’s the Red Badge o’ Courage for keeping hold of the baby AND making sure that nothing reached the carpet, all while gagging herself.)


It’s so bad that I’m having to breath through my mouth while awaiting my turn to clean up, (I, also, tend to be a sympathetic vomiter…) and everything the three of us were wearing had to go directly into the washing machine.


Sounds like Gracie’s doing a little better know, but feel free to toss out a prayer for her, she was in close proximity to a couple of pukey kids yesterday (neither we nor they knew until it was too late.)


So…I’m sure there will be many more experiences even worse than these, but this is the first thing that has really made me say, “Oh…My…God…!”





Misty Watercolor Memories*



Okay, maybe it’s because it just a day for remembering, or maybe it was the smell of my baby-girl’s hair this morning, but something triggered this…


I must have been three or four years old…I’m taking a nap with my dad, resting in the crook of his arm. It’s a warm afternoon. I can smell the comforting aroma of old-spice, and brill cream, and cigarettes…I’m dozing off to sleep.


It’s a sensory memory, triggered whenever I smell the combination of two or more of the above. Feeling safe…like my dad is the biggest guy in the world, and he’s watching out for me while I sleep.




It seems like too young to remember, but I do. I’m sure it happened before they divorced (age 4) as I doubt we took any naps together after he moved out.


That means he was five years younger than I am now.


My next memory is my mother crying, and me running out to the parking lot and screaming, “I hate you!” at my father’s retreating car. I didn’t hate him, I didn’t even know what was going on, I just wanted to help my mom.


God, how that must have hurt him.

It was never mentioned, so I guess can live with the idealistic hope that he didn’t hear.

It’s amazing how memories can fade, but guilt lingers.

The idea of hearing that from my own daughter…


I wonder what my girl will remember, thirty-eight years from now…







*And…yes…I hear Tom Hanks whenever I think if this song, lol. (Scattered PIC..tures…ofthewaywewere…)



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