Tell me your stories.
This is a link up that is for ALL types of blogs.
Just choose a pic of yours (or more), and tell me the story behind it. It can be funny, silly, serious, sad, etc.
I started this last month (read it here) and am doing it again, today.
Edit: I hope this post doesn't come off as too sad. It is honest and how I was feeling in those moments.
This picture was taken on this past Sunday, my birthday. It was OktoberFest in Helen, GA, and I made everyone buy the traditional Alpine hats. We wore them everywhere, regardless of what clothes we were wearing or what we were doing. If there was a small one for Charlie, I would have made him wear one, too! ;)
The leaves had just started to change a little and the weather was finally cool enough for a sweater. Autumn is my fave. Perfect weekend. I felt so loved. Lucky girl.
Straight up, I hate how I look in this pic--glasses and no makeup. But I made myself leave those things and the computer back in Atlanta. I tried to stay off the phone and enjoy it all. I am the worst at relaxing, especially when it comes to blog-related stuff.
Hard for me to let go.
I had mixed emotions this day--it was the first birthday without my Daddy. I was trying so hard to chill, to celebrate, and I did have a great weekend, but it was hard this day. As crazy as it sounds, I kept expecting him to call me, like he always did. But when a man stopped in front of me and started playing a harmonica, just like my Daddy did, that was all I needed to hear.
Hard for me to let go.
Yes, yes, yes, I LOVE autumn, and one of my traditions growing up was my late Great Granny Sugar's Apple Dapple Cake. My Daddy is the one who started calling her Granny Sugar. I remember eating it every year and I will forever associate it with her. I haven't had it since she passed away 3 years ago (I have no doubt she is fussing over my Daddy in Heaven) and decided this year I would make it.
I had my mom text me the recipe and she sent me this--the recipe written in Granny Sugar's handwriting, that Palmer Method cursive. Sidenote--I am fully aware that it's weird that I know the different methods of cursive handwriting. Handwriting analysis is a hobby of mine. Anyway, this was such a treat to me to see. I would know her handwriting anywhere.
When I moved away for college 3.5 hours away from my small hometown, she came with me (with other family) to help me move in. I didn't have housing there until the weekend before classes started. She had gotten on her knees every night to pray for me to get a room. And I did.
I was the first person in my family to gradate from college. It was a big deal. She was in her 80s then, having survived breast cancer a year or two before. She walked the four floors (!!!) to my dorm room and made my bed. She met my roommates, who were all basketball players. I was an English major, so I never saw them. It was a lonely year, but I grew up.
The next week I got my very first care package at school. It was from Sugar. Inside the box I found crocheted booties made by a lady at her church, a crisp $20 bill, decorative soaps, a card that said With Deepest Sympathy but it was scratched out (she was notorious for doing this--she had a huge box of random cards and never used them for their intended message) and instead she wrote, "I'm so proud of you. I love you, Angel Pie #1."
And the last thing I found in the box was a container of Apple Dapple Cake.
Thanks for reading, and don't forget to link up!
Missed it this time? Next link up is November 24.