Today I find myself thinking a lot about my father, who passed away on this date in 2005. He was only 67 when he died. Way too young in my opinion. It’s a real shame my child will never meet his paternal Grandfather. Something to think about for those smokers with children. Dad would still be with us if he had quit smoking at some point during his life. Despite this and his many other human frailties, I love and miss him more than anyone will ever know.
Jani is due to have our first child, the fore mentioned Ginker, on the 28th of December… less than a week from today. As friends and family try to guess… and gamble on the actual date, it has been my hope that our child would be born today. It feels like it would be one of those “hakuna matada” circle of life things. As I write this there are only eight hours left of December 22nd, so it seems highly unlikely that today will be the day. Twenty-two is one of my roulette numbers as well, so I was really pulling for today. Well, the Ginker will come when the Ginker is good and ready. All I really want is for a healthy baby and mommy, so I’ll be patient.
As a way of remembering my father today I’m going to re-post something I wrote while traveling on my way to dad’s funeral. Please read on and enjoy.
(Original Post: 12/22/08) – On December 22, 2005 my father passed away. Three years have rushed by me and a lot has changed in my life since my father’s passing. Although I don’t have many regrets in my life, I do wish my dad would have been around long enough to meet my wife and maybe some day his grandchildren. I think about my father often, especially this time of year. On the way to my dad’s funeral I wrote the following, and posted it to my Myspace Blog. As I read what I wrote nearly three years ago, I find that my feelings have changed very little. Enjoy the read and have a happy holiday season.
It’s 6:00 AM, local time, NYC. I’m sitting at the Jet Blue terminal, waiting for my connecting flight to Burlington, VT. Just three more hours to kill. There seems to be an awful lot of wide-awake people for 6:00 AM. But, who knows what time it is to these people.
It’s interesting watching people while I tune them out, quite literally, thanks to my MP3 player. Right now it’s Lou Reed…. The interconnectedness of all things becomes evident through the magic of shuffle play. I mean, Lou Reed and New York are pretty much synonymous…. those of you who have seen the movie “Repo Man” will know what I mean when I say, “plate of shrimp.” For those who haven’t seen the movie… what the hell? Rent it today, it’s fucking great. Oh, and by the way, the song now…. any guesses? Van Morrison, “Glad Tidings (from New York).” Yeah…. it’s that kind of world, isn’t it? I wonder what other delicious, cosmic treats the universe has in store for me. I’m looking forward to the new day.
So, I’m off to Burlington, VT, with an ultimate destination of Jay, NY. The main point of this latest journey East is for my father’s funeral. My dad passed away a couple days before this past Christmas. One of the harsh realities of the North Eastern, US is that the ground is frozen…. ’til, let’s say April 15thish. So, for the past four months my dad has been…. well, no need to go there. Anyway, we’re going to bury my father this Saturday, then have a big Easter dinner, Sunday. Kinda funny when you think about it… maybe funny isn’t the right word… ironic? Yeah, let’s go with that.
So, about my dad. We didn’t talk much these past few years. There was no reason for it. That’s just the way it was. To the outside observer we may have seemed estranged….but, that wasn’t the case. When I saw dad this past summer I saw in his eyes how he felt about me. He was happy to see me…. probably the happiest he’d been in quite some time. He was proud of me… proud of all his kids… even if he never told us in so many words. Sometimes I’d hear stories about myself from people I hadn’t talked to. It was obvious that my father had been singing my praises. It was the way he did things.
My father had a 9th grade education, but he was a sage when it came to all things of a practical nature. He could turn a pile of garbage into money to feed his family, and often did just that. He was a survivor, and he taught us kids those skills. Dad valued friends above all else. He was a big, gruff, loud man, but beneath the surface was a pure, kind, and generous heart. Everyone liked my dad. He’d make men laugh, and women giggle and blush…. and children…. he just made them happy.
Dad had a wonderful way of cutting through the bullshit. He didn’t play games, and told things how he saw them. He was fearless. He was comfortable with anyone. He could walk into a room full of construction workers, and leave them all feeling better for knowing him…. he could do the same in a room full of college professors.
I’ve missed my dad for probably the past ten or fifteen years… The time it’s been, since I moved to San Francisco, and would see him maybe once every year or two. His passing hasn’t really changed much for me. I still miss him, the same as I have these past ten or fifteen years. Oddly enough, though, dad’s passing has forced me to think about him more of late. I recall the good times we spent together, and I think about the little things I catch myself doing. I’ll spit out a phrase, or tell a joke, as if it were my own original thought. Then, I’ll realize it’s my father speaking.
I hope as I grow older I can continue to honor my father by carrying on the legacy of the good qualities he gave me. I’ll do my best.
Thanks for tuning in. Peace out from NYC!