diflucan generic

Archive for the ‘One foot in front of the other’ Category

Happy Birthday, Natalie Rose!

Thursday, December 15th, 2016

Do you remember the night we all skated with the Komets after the game? I think of this picture every time I hear Robbie on the radio. (He’s been doing home-game color for 35 years, now. Can you believe it?)

And for almost 10 years you have had far better things to do than recall earthly pleasures. That doesn’t seem possible, either!

Love eternally,


Still wordless, after all these years

Friday, June 7th, 2013


I often try to think of something to write on these pages and every time it seems that I have already said everything that I can. I do have thoughts and memories but so few of them come with words.

On this past Memorial Day, I was thinking about my cousin who died in Vietnam. A few years after that traumatic event I picked up Natalie at school and we stopped to see the traveling Vietnam Memorial wall. That’s when I took the photo above.

I never asked what she was thinking at that moment. Allen had been gone five years when she was born, but I’m sure that she felt some connection. After all, she would later celebrate the 100-year accomplishments of Bob Hope. And when Anthony Berger suddenly passed at 44, she remarked how that was far too young. And when we heard the news–which happened to be three days before her 33rd birthday–that Peter Boyle was no longer with us, she observed that it was hard to believe that he was gone. Yes, ironies can be intriguing.

Although I would like to take credit for passing some of my writing aptitude on to her, she took what little she was given and ran with it. Her willingness to express her thoughts and feelings far exceeded anything that I ever wrote. And this is no exception.

Yes, I have many thoughts and memories, but the feeling that always comes to the front is the pride I feel when I read the wonderful words so many of you share. Thank you all, so very much!–Nattie’s Daddy

Five years and counting…

Thursday, June 7th, 2012

This is where I feel compelled—even obligated—to write wisdom and inspiration. But each year I come up empty. So, again, I can only thank each of you for your wisdom and inspiration, love and support. Words cannot express the gratitude I feel when I read your recollections of times spent with Natalie Rose, and your tributes to her memory.

I thank God for all of the memories. Some are heartbreaking, but many are quite good.

Proud to be Natie’s Daddy.

Happy Birthday, Natalie!

Thursday, December 15th, 2011

I can’t think of many words that haven’t been said already. But it doesn’t seem possible that this is the fifth year we’ve had to celebrate your birthday without you. Or that it was 38 years ago tonight that we welcomed you into the world. And the nurse handed you, to your mother and asked us, “What’s her name?”

And the next day I sat in the hospital room, held you and watched some guy they called “Juice” set a new NFL season rushing record.

That was a much happier time. Or more innocent. Maybe ignorance truly is bliss.

But we know you no longer feel the pains of the body you left behind. And you probably saw Wes move the family so Jonathan and Anna could attend better schools. They seem to be thriving, making new friends, and growing like Hoosier corn in the summertime.

That makes us all happy.

We love you, and will miss you terribly…until we meet again.


Merry Christmas!

Friday, December 25th, 2009

snow deck
…to all of you from Natalie’s family. Thank you for all you have done to welcome us into your hearts. Just as you did for our Nattie.
May all your kindness be returned a hundredfold. God bless!
’til we meet again…{{{{{Y’all!}}}}}

Happy 36th birthday, Natalie

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009

Happy Birthday

A change in plans

Wednesday, December 2nd, 2009

For some reason that was never clear to me, Natalie did not go home on Tuesday. Then I got a call from her mom at 1:42 on Wednesday afternoon. I was still convinced that Nattie would be cured or healed, or at least be with us long enough to get hospice care at home, but Mary’s words at least partially penetrated my fog; her organs are shutting down. I needed to get to Indianapolis.


What would you expect?

Monday, November 30th, 2009

Natalie was moved to ICU on Sunday night, June 3, 2007, after an emergency episode with her blood pressure. On Monday morning I met her oncologist, and first impressions were not good. Until that moment, I had not heard the word “hospice” used in regard to her prognosis.
“She doesn’t want to be here. She wants to go home,” he said. What I heard was, “Get her out of here; she’s wasting my time.”
From his detached position, he could see that the end was near and providing for her comfort was not the hospital’s job. They had plenty of patients who might yet respond to their ministrations. I, on the other hand, refused to see the hopelessness of the situation that stared me in the face.


Hindsight may be 20/20…

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

On the date that yesterday’s post was originally written—May 16, 2007—I was still trying to deal with the month-old news that a former co-worker and protegé had died a year earlier of lymphoma and multiple sclerosis. I well remembered the day he presented himself at my office door, fresh from college, overflowing with raw talent and enthusiasm.


tired of being poked and prodded

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

(Originally published by Nattie on May 16, 2007)
I’ve had blood work done. I’ve had a gall bladder ultrasound. I’ve had an Upper GI done. Now I have an endoscopy scheduled tomorrow at some horridly early hour. They must fix this soon because I am at my limit.
Copyright Natalie Rose York