Aug 18 2005
Four Years Gone
Thanks for your kind words and thoughts, everyone. My family and I really appreciate it. Sending you love & hugs right back!
Faithful readers may remember that today marks the fourth anniversary of my father’s death. I’m happy to report that these freshly minted orphans were actually able to laugh, sharing some of the sillier memories of Dad:
- How he always woke us up for school, snapping open the blinds and merrily carolling, “Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!” Not surprisingly, we often did not rise, and we never shone, though it was pretty much impossible not to wake(y). If we did not rise soon enough for Dad, the covers would be yanked back, admitting the cold morning air, while Dad said “up, up, up!” like a drill sergeant, each “up” accompanied by a hand clap. More effective than any alarm clock.
- How he never did learn to change a tire. My brother used to work as a cook, and Dad actually called him while he was at work and told him he needed him to come and change his tire. My brother was caught between the chef, who had big, sharp knives, and Dad, who informed my brother that he put him on the planet and he could take him off it, too. He went and changed the tire.
- How I saw pictures of myself as a really little baby and was horrified by how ugly I was. I was, too. I had a giant, blocky head and a pig nose and the general effect was something like one of the Whos from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I told Dad how appalled I was by my babyhood hideousness, and he said, “Yes, I felt quite sorry for you.” Dad always said what he thought, even when he shouldn’t.
Mom & Dad, we miss you, but we have each other and our memories, and we’ll be OK.