Almost a Grown Up

By Ann Shayne
February 21, 2019
Our yarns are so freaking awesome.

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  • Sadly, I discovered that I never quite grew up when with my mother in the house I grew up in. I didn’t have a good relationship with her and couldn’t get over dreading going to visit even when she was old and frail. Your father sounds a great man to know.

    • These relationships can be so very complicated, Nat. Expectations—my own and those of people around me—can make it hard to feel like I’m seeing things clearly.

  • Seventeen books? Wow! One thing I always admired about my dad was his curiosity and eagerness to learn new things when he was well into his 80s. (I speak of him in past tense, but he is still alive at almost 90, in hospice care with almost zero cognitive function, a sad state of affairs for a man of his giant intellect.)

    • Wendy, I’m so sorry to hear this about your dad. Sending love to you!

  • Love that green! And it’s not even the end of February…..and I didn’t grow up until my Dad passed; I was always his little girl.

    • I think that’s such a common phenomenon, Sandra!

  • I might succumb to joining Twitter just for this. And thanks for the heads up about the new edition of the book. Your dad’s thoughts on misdiagnosis are in my mind both when I’m seeing patients and teaching students.

    • That’s so great to hear, Amy. He is a skeptic about so much in medicine—overconfidence and arrogance are two themes he talks about a lot in the book.

  • I love your dad already and I have never met him. A dad who remembers all his seven kids’ birthdays. Wow. I looked up scrumtrelescent in the dictionary and, yes, there it is. Means delicious and totally-devoid-of laddering-despite-being-done-with-Magic-Loop. Can be done, folks.

    • Lol! Devoid of laddering—it is true!

  • Lovely post (and sweater)!

    • Thank you! It was fun to Bang It Out.

  • A fine line between “letting go and holding on”. That pretty much says it all. I look forward to your emails. Thank you.

    • Thank you for reading, Jan! Means the world to me.

  • Well first of all your sweater, it is so lovely!
    My Dad was A doctor also and I wish he would have lived long enough to have A second life of creativity. This is so wonderful for your father,what A great legacy ❤️

    • The work is so all consuming. I think that the people who work with patients are rare people. ER staffers in particular seem to combine focus, toughness, and care in an amazing way.

  • Thank you for the letter. My Dad died on his 86th birthday 1/16/19. Such complicated feelings, loved him, but wanted him to be more forward-thinking. But alas the only person I can truly change is myself. And I am working on that.

    • Truth. That is so very true, Jan. I have had those thoughts in my head often in recent years.

  • Thank you very much for sharing! Now I have more books on my ‘must read’ list!! 🙂

  • Great post.about your dad. And your sweater is beautiful!

  • Been following him since his debut. He’s an interesting thinker.

  • This post today is a bit of serendipity (if I understand that word correctly) – my dad passed away yesterday a month shy of his 79th birthday. He was one of the good guys, like your father Ann, and I realized that now I have to be the grown-up of my family as my mom has been gone for 25 years. To those who have/had a difficult relationship with a parent, my heart hurts for you. To those who still have your parent(s), hug them extra!

    • So sorry for the loss of your dad, Traci.

    • Traci – giving you lots of positive vibes and so sorry for your loss. xo

    • So sorry for your loss, Traci. My husband died in August last year, 9 days after his 79th birthday. It’s hard to lose those 79-year-olds, isn’t it? Keeping on keeping on.

    • Condolences on the loss of your Dad, Traci.

  • Beautiful sweater, and done before the deadline. Someday… Beautiful post. This may sound awful but my Dad had to die before I could resurrect the several fond memories and get close to him again through them. He was in the Navy in WWII. His bedtimes stories on stormy seas had us kids rocking in the boat!

    • I feel you, Kathleen! Dads are complicated. I have done this myself and been dismayed at how far back I have to go to find the honey in the rock. It’s there, though.

  • Ann, Your Dad is amazing and an inspiration. Thank you for sharing his books and life with us. I think I’ll be reading one very soon.

  • Have a happy birthday and enjoy your special lunch!

  • What a tribute to a wonderful father! I’ve enjoyed reading others’ comments regarding their parents. I did not appreciate mine until I was a parent myself. My Dad passed over 30 years ago, but my Mom lived until she was 94, and was bright as a tack until the end. I treasured the adult friendship that she and I were so fortunate to share.
    I love your sweater! Which yarn is that? I looked up your Rav project page but couldn’t find it. Is it Julie Asselin’s Hektos? I’m loving it!!

  • ‘Letting go and holding on simultaneously’ – wow, that sums up so many of life’s challenges, doesn’t it?

    I’m a psychiatric clinical pharmacy specialist in the VA, as well as preceptor of pharmacy students – your dad’s rule on treating the patient with the disease and not the disease should come right after First Do No Harm. I’d argue that your dad’s rule is probably MOST important when working with patients with mental illness (at least, that’s my experience).

    And your sweater is done, with so much time to spare!! Gah! I just divided sleeves on my denim Calligraphy pullover at 10:30 last night!

  • Happy Birthday my fellow Pisecs!

  • letting go and hanging on simultaneously – that is the trick to learn for so many of life’s challenges, isn’t it?

    I think your dad’s rule on treating the patient with the disease and not the disease should come right after First Do No Harm. Sounds like he was a caring doctor as well as an amazing dad.

    I am a psychiatric clinical pharmacist at the VA, and also train students – I think your dad’s rule might apply the absolute most when working with patients with mental illness (at least, that’s my experience). Though truly – it’s a rule that certainly has applications outside of medicine.

    And your sweater is done, with time to spare! Gah!!! I just divided for sleeves on my denim calligraphy pullover last night, around 10:30!

  • Having been an RN, I love treat the patient. Your father is truly a gift and I just had a birthday on Tuesday, so I hope that you have a wonderful birthday and a wonderful year.

  • What is an Oslerian clinician ? Off to google to find out

  • Your dad sounds like a wonderful doctor. A listener! In the 70s we moved to a small town in Colorado with a terrific doctor there. He was a listener and the best diagnostician I have known.

    Your sweater! It’s lovely, and you beat the clock.

  • The sweater looks great! You should wear it when you go for your birthday dosa — if Kermit hasn’t already adopted it as his newest blanket.

  • Your Dad sounds like a good man to know. I had a wonderful relationship with both of my parents. They were both kind, compassionate, and totally supportive of everything my brother or I ever attempted. Even though I lived far from them I hopped the train every November from here in New Mexico to the Oregon coast to spend a couple of weeks soaking them in. I think of them often, but since we never left anything unsaid between us I can think of them with a smile even though they have both been gone for a decade now.

  • “There have been times in recent years when he and I have been completely sideways, mostly because of me trying to come to terms with hard things. But now that I am on the verge of being a grownup—which surely will happen in the next decade or two—I have come to the conclusion that letting go and holding on can be simultaneous activities.” This is utter genius, says a 48-year-old who’s finally coming to terms with her own childhood 🙂

    Also, how awesome to have a dad with a website and a bunch of books who also believes in treating the patient rather than the disease. No wonder you’re so cool!

  • It sounds like you have a wonderful father. Makes me miss mine. Happy birthday and enjoy that dosa!

  • Hmmmm, that is one to ponder and reflect on.
    And, how old is grown up?

  • One of your Dad’s “rules” has had me pondering for a few days now, plus, he told me (on twitter) that I was “so right!” about something, so clearly he is a wise and perceptive person. I’d be happy to buy you both a drink on your birthday 🙂

  • Happy Birthday Ann and enjoy your dosa lunch. And your sweater is gorgeous. Wear it in good health

  • Your Dad sounds like a wonderful man and Doctor. Cherish your time with him. Happy Birthday too!

  • Fascinating! I was an x-ray school student at St Thomas hospital from 1982-1984 and was at VUMC radiation therapy school from 1984-1985. I probably never saw your dad but to think we shared some of the same space is quite the coincidence! He sounds like a great father and a fine human being all-around!

  • Your sweater looks absolutely gorgeous! Hope your birthday was everything you hoped for.