Friday, August 12, 2011

Me Moments

           Sometimes things happen to me where I walk away shaking my head thinking, “only me.” Yet those are often the times when no one else is around to witness it.  This past weekend Mike and I went to Pittsburgh to visit his family and to see our old city and some of our friends. On Monday we decided to drive around the city to hit up some of our old favorite spots in between our visits with good friends. We had breakfast at Pamela’s and got some Pittsburgh Popcorn at the strip district, stopped in Oakland to see our old Alma mater, bought bubble tea, and walked around some shops on the South Side and North Oakland. 
Of course on the top of our priority list was Mike’s old comic shop on South Craig St. As he gleefully ran across the street like a little boy seeing his super hero for the first time, I decided to browse one of the old used bookstores I used to go to, Caliban’s Books. After I was done perusing the shelves I headed towards the door and an employee was stacking books into a large cardboard box for another customer. The box was sitting in the narrow hallway between the pay counter and the man loading the box. It was blocking my only way out. I stopped with my bubble tea in hand, hesitated briefly, and looked down at the box for a moment then back over at the book stacker man kneeling down beside it. We made eye contact, both smiling awkwardly at each other, and after a few seconds I said “excuse me.” He looked at the box, considered the situation in a thought bubble above his head and finally said, “I think you’ll have to step over it...”  
...Excuse me? Step over it?? Oh really...  
I looked at the big box, glanced down at my skirt, and back again to the book stacker man. Smiling a bit nervously I replied, “Um, I don’t really think I’m going to be able to step over that box in a skirt...”  He looked at his box, looked down at my legs, slurred a few incomprehensible words, then stared blankly at the side of the box. I was tired of playing chicken so I took the liberty of solving this situation on my own as I put out my right flip flopped foot and slowly nudged the large box to the right closer and closer to the book stacker dude. He stood up looking somewhat dumbfounded and was still unable to give me a helping hand although I was clearly not going to step over that box. As I made enough room to squeeze through, the entertained customer standing by happily opened the door with a cheery grin and a friendly nod of his head. I thanked him, slid past the big box apologizing to no one in particular (maybe it was to the box), and laughed at myself on my way out the door.  
Are you kidding me? Did he really just ask me to step over it instead of sliding the box to the side and avoiding that awkward moment altogether? And did I really just make the obvious fact that I was wearing a skirt that much more obvious? Um, okay, then please sir...may I hold on to your shoulder as I attempt to do this task as gracefully as possible? Yeah, I don’t think so, sorry buddy. (Insert head shake here). How embarrassing.
As I walked across the street I hoped that at least dad was looking down chuckling at me being me. I can just hear him making the “tsk” sound while shaking his head saying “Kate...” but giving away his smirk with his big cute dimples. As painful as it is sometimes to always have thoughts of dad with me wherever I go, it is also comforting at silly moments like these. Moments where I can still picture his reaction, his words, his cute faces and his little quirks. I guess I know now that I won’t have to laugh at those stupid me moments alone anymore since dad will always be with me wherever I am.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Cutest little face


Despite all we've been through, one huge blessing was getting to spend so much time with my family. It was awesome for my sister and I to get so much time together in the last two months, and for Mike and I to be able to watch Calvin grow during that time. It was a sad day this past Wednesday saying goodbye to them as they headed back to Colorado, but I'm grateful for how much closer we all became.  I miss this little face! Love you baby boy <3






Monday, August 1, 2011

True Colors

I’ve been wanting to get my hair colored darker for a little while now and wasn’t really sure why. I started to panic thinking about it as time went by since it meant I’d be saying goodbye to my blonde curls. But then I started to think about the decision on a deeper level a couple days before my hair appointment and I realized why I wanted to make this change...I guess it is also the reason that made me do it despite my reservations. I thought about the last 6 months and all that my dad endured. He did it all with such bravery and grace, and as the end came near he still fought each day without complaints. Although he was afraid, he continued fighting and it was like nothing else I have ever witnessed before in my life. I’ve realized that watching him battle his cancer has helped me want to strive to be like him. To take things, big and small, and face them head on with hope and courage. I know this is just a small thing but to me it means so much more, and instead of crying like I might have in the past when I saw how dark my hair turned out, I smiled and felt proud to have this new sense of motivation and will to take on challenges from a fresh perspective. I love my dad so much and although he favored my blonde “curly locks”, I know he’d see me today and say, “Looks cute, Kate!” I know that dad was with me and will continue to help drive me to hopefully one day do big and great things that I never would have done if it weren’t for what he taught me.



My new do!

I got a little excited with the camera the first day it was brown :)

             
               Kisses from Calvin :-*
Me and my love <3


*Thank you to Jen Harnish at Trans4mation Salon in Lancaster for doing an awesome job!!*

Monday, July 11, 2011

Eulogy and Memorial Video



        My sister posted on her blog the eulogy that we wrote together and gave on Saturday at my dad's memorial service. I thought this was a great idea so that we could share what an amazing and inspirational person dad was with the friends and family that weren't able to make it on Saturday. Also posted at the end of the blog is the slide show that Keri and I made to honor dad's amazing life. Even if you didn't know dad, I hope this helps to give you an idea of what he meant to us and to so many people:

Katy:   One day last week, Keri and I went to sit with Dad for a while before we went for a walk. During those days, Dad didn’t do much of the talking.  We did most of it, and Dad listened or drifted in and out of sleep.  We talked to him about anything and everything, and told him again and again how much we loved him.  As we were leaving the room that particular day, he woke up long enough to tell us to have fun on our walk, and then as he drifted to sleep, he said out of the blue, “You’ll figure it out.”  We really had no idea where this advice came from, but when Dad gives advice, you stop and listen because it’s always worth hearing.  On our walk, we found ourselves discussing our lives and the situation and believe it or not kept coming back to the phrase, “We’ll figure it out.”  We knew that this short, powerful bit of advice would help us get through the days to come and would continue to influence us for the rest of our lives.  So, that said, we each did our best to figure out some words that we hope will paint a picture of the amazing person our dad was.
Keri:    Since the moment I can first remember, I have always been so immensely proud to be Ken Walkowiak’s daughter.  From swim meets where Dad would high five and cheer for my friends to homecoming when he walked me across that football field and threw in a few of his signature dance moves to coming to every single one of my field hockey games – home and away – , my dad was always my biggest supporter.  I loved that my dad was my soccer and basketball coach, and although he knew little about either sport and I wasn’t exactly the star athlete, he was happy because I was having fun and he was there to experience it.  As many of my family members and friends can attest to, my dad was often the most fun adult in the room.  He was known for making up silly games and songs, snapping his fingers in your face, quoting funny movies, and infamously winning every boardwalk game he played.  The times Dad got angry were few and far between but always involved some sort of property damage like the time we slammed our bodies into the basement door not realizing it was dead bolted and ripped the door from it’s frame.  Opposite of many teenagers these days, I actually wanted my friends to meet my dad.  Always immaculately dressed, smelling good, and up-to-date with the current music, Dad could talk to anyone.  He’d also hand out coupons for free Ken’s salad dressing and BBQ sauce to my friends, which made him even more awesome.  He loved to make other people smile and could either be the life of the party or a man of few words – both of which were equally special depending on the occasion.  As I moved into adulthood, Dad guided me with big decisions, told me never to settle, and wrapped his loving arms around Angus and Calvin.  During his battle with cancer, the pride I had for my dad soared above anything I’d ever felt. I have learned so much from the man my father was, and I know that there’s something about the relationship between a father and his daughter that even time can’t change. I will always call my dad, Ken Walkowiak, my hero and inspiration and always be so proud to be his daughter.
Katy: For as long as I can remember, my dad has been to me an example of strength and unconditional love. When I close my eyes I see my dad - my strong, gentle, funny, loving dad. I can still feel his affectionate hugs and hear his phone voice that seemed to be special just for me, his little girl.  As I think back to all of the times he comforted me in my most fearful moments I realize that I never should have been afraid because my dad’s love for me never failed. The first time I got on the Super Dooper Looper and burst into tears at the top telling my dad I wanted to go back, he laughed, put his arm around me and told me it was going to be ok. We hit the loop and my tears turned into laughter as I rode the rest of the way safe under his arm.  When I was too afraid to go beyond ankle deep in the ocean, dad would get the flimsy blue raft we got for free at one of his food shows and tell me to hold on. I vividly remember fearing for my life as those deadly waves charged at us, but soon enough the waves stopped breaking and instead, they became rounded and smooth. I remember looking over at my dad seeing his smile and hearing his reassuring laughter, and I knew that with my dad I was always safe. His protective grasp never once left me as we floated there together and I felt such peace and pure happiness because together, we defeated fear. My dad has always been my rock. He’s been the one I look to for advice and comfort as well as his simple but profound words of love and guidance.  He loved so purely and so selflessly, and because of that he made me the person I am today. He is still showing me who I want to strive to become, and has inspired Mike and me to love our children the way dad loved us. What he went through in the last six months during his battle with cancer is more than any one person should ever have to handle, yet he fought his incredible heart out every step of the way.  When I first arrived in CT after spending the last two months at home helping my parents, dad called me from the hospital and said, “I miss my little roommate!” I felt so honored and blessed to be able to return the feeling of comfort and safety to my dad during his greatest moments of fear. Although he was very scared, he faced every challenge with such bravery and grace. He demonstrated the most extraordinary strength, will, determination, and courageousness that I have ever witnessed before in my life. My dad is still teaching me every day what it means to love, to be love, and to live love. 
Keri:    Last summer around this time, our family spent a week together in Colorado.  One morning, Dad, Mom, Katy and I took a walk together on a trail that runs by my house and provides a good view of the mountains.  I remember thinking that it was the first time in a while that it was just the four of us together.  Maybe that’s why it sticks out in our minds so much, but I think it’s also because Dad was so full of life that day.  So positive and hopeful about the future.  Toward the end of the walk, we passed by a large open field.  Hundreds of geese were gathered in the field, and more were flying together overhead.   Dad stopped at that moment, hands on his hips in his cute matching Adidas workout clothes, and stared at the sky in silence.  As we all stopped in our tracks as well, Dad shook his head in awe saying, “It’s just amazing how they all fly together and know just where to go year after year.”  We stood there for a while watching the geese land in groups and laughing at the stragglers being wrangled in by the leaders.  None of us knew how they did it, but they stuck together and just seemed to know what to do. To some extent, all of our lives are going to be different without Kenny, our dad, here. But, above anything else, he would want us all to “be OK.”  Sticking together, we’ll all do our best to move forward and keep his memory alive, and when we falter, we’ll just hold on to the belief that we’ll figure it out...



Love you and miss you, Dad! <3


Video from Memorial Service:




Wednesday, July 6, 2011

I love you Dad





For all of you that have been reading my blog, I just wanted to let you know that my dad passed away Tuesday night here at home with all of us by his side. It has been a long 6 months, and an especially difficult last week, but we are doing the best we can and continuing to love and carry each other just as my dad wanted us to do. It has been an extremely emotional and exhausting couple days as we have been sharing memories and stories of my dad, discussing fears and frustrations and hopes, and praying that we can all find some peace and acceptance in this time to help get us through in the days to come. 
             
We will be having a memorial service for my dad this Saturday morning, July 9,  at Grace United Methodist Church (163 W. Frederick St, Millersville, PA 17551). The memorial service will start at 10am with a visitation hour prior to the service from 9-10am. 
              
I don't even know what else to say at this time except how freaking proud I am to be the daughter of Ken Walkowiak. He amazed all of us with the incomprehensible amount of courage, strength, and dignity that he had while he fought this unbelievably brutal disease. He has inspired me to be that kind of person, and even in the little things that build character, I have already found myself taking them on with a new, stronger perspective. My heart aches as I miss my dad so much already, but his love will forever live on in me and in all of you that he has touched and inspired in his lifetime. I can't thank you all enough for your love and support for me and my family. 



Monday, June 27, 2011

Taking a little break

So much has been going on lately, and it is all too much to put into words right now. As things have been getting more difficult, I find it hard enough to process it all let alone write about it. I need this time to be with my family right now, but will be back to writing when I can.  For now I will be taking a short break from my blog as I spend this time with my dad. Thank you again for all of your support, encouragement and prayers. It means more then you all will ever know.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Mmmm...Donuts!

I’ve had a new revelation recently. I always kind of wondered (but never really hoped to find out) how I would respond in an extremely stressful situation. Would I be a stress eater or would I be one of those people who are too depressed to even consider attempting to put food in their mouths? Well, I’ve had a hunch over the last several months as I catch myself sneaking another bite of peanut butter cake or maybe just three more Dove chocolates, ok, four more, but that’s it. My hunch tells me that I just might enjoy comfort food a little bit too much ... :D
Today I hit my ultimate low. As I pulled on my favorite pair of jeans, I saw something plop onto the carpet. Oooo a quarter! Yes, the small things excite me these days... But no, I couldn’t be that lucky. I realized as I attempted to button my pants that this task is quite impossible when you are missing your button. I reached down to find my lonely little button laying on the floor next to me. If you can picture the facebook frownie face, that was the look I gave my sad little button as I held it up, looked down at my jeans, and reluctantly changed into my cozy sweat pants. I angrily glared at my button, yelled “you freakin‘ defective thing!”, and chucked the button aside.  With my comfy pair of elastic waisted pants, a satisfied smile on my face, and a rumble in my belly, I tossed my stupid jeans across the room and went to the kitchen for just one more cookie.