Father’s Day 2019
There’s a lot going on again that I gotta sort out. Trying to organize it so it’ll make sense to you…and me, I suppose.
The main thing from last week was that my son graduated from pre-3K. My mother-in-law was there and I was glad she got a chance to see his school.
MIL: You know, I went to Catholic school for years. This reminds me of things.
Me: Everything reminds me of things.
It was Father’s Day yesterday. I spent a good part of it with Mouse.
Because that’s what she does: She shows up when she knows I’m on my knees. She sits with me and tells me that it’ll be ok. Even when we both know it won’t be.
I love her. Dunno if I ever told you that.
Do though. Suppose I have for a long time. Maybe it was obvious to you. Everything is obvious once you accept the answer
See, I accepted it too late. Told her even later.
It’s one of my ten thousand regrets.
Even though I didn’t wanna, thought about my dad a lot over the weekend. A man’s dying, and all…
That’s kinda what I said to my MIL when she was here: I try not to think of Alison and my dad.
Because it’s painful. It’ll always be painful, I suppose.
Lemme tell you this one story: When I was 32, I stayed over at my parents house in my childhood room because I had an appointment in the area.
Everyone had left by the time I woke up so I got dressed in my room and walked out the door to go upstairs. There, I saw something strange on the steps.
It was two hard boiled eggs that my dad made me for brekkie. And he wrote on them: “Good Morning” and “I love you.” I remember laughing and thinking I had to take a picture of it.
I’m so glad I did.
The running joke is that Asian/Chinese parents are not effusive. A college roommate told me that his father never told him that he loved him.
Him: I have no idea what it’s like, to have a father that says that.
Me: I’m sorry. I have no idea what it’s like to have a father that doesn’t.
But that was my dad. He loved me, my siblings, and my mother. And he wasn’t shy about telling us.
Hoo-boy, that man embarrassed me more times than I can count. And I’ll probably embarrass my son.
Because when you love someone, you should tell them that you do, early and often. See above.
Anywho, I try not to think about my dad because I loved him so and the weight of my grief equals the weight of my love.
Which is a shit-ton.
God, I miss all these people I love so.
But there’s no place for the love to go.
Location: home, in front of several glasses of rum
Mood: heartbroken
Music: I keep on wantin’ more of you and me
