Monthly Archives: September 2010
So I’ve been wearing my dad’s favorite cap for awhile now, and since it’s been hot sometimes I just put it next to me in the seat. And then I just had a random thought trickle in, I realized it’s kind of like he’s riding next to me. I know, it’s not quite the same, but in a small way, it was comforting. Wish he was in the passenger side for reals. Oh well, back to reality.
Why people throw things away for closure. Well not the major things, but simple every day stupid things. For example, the last day at the hospital, I took some of his medicine home so I could stop by later at my parents house to give to him. Well, as we all know he no longer needed the medicine, but it’s been in my possession since his passing, and every time I tell myself to throw it away, I couldn’t do it. I think it made me feel better that I had it, as to remind me of the in the hospital when he was still around.
But today, as I was throwing out the trash, I just chucked it in there as well. I think the reasoning was, it’s medicine, it didn’t really belong to him. There’s no sentimental value attached to it at all, other than the fact that he used it a few days prior to his passing. So as it came tumbling down into the trash bin, I think I just got slammed with a few different emotions…and then it all stopped. There was, just some level of added closure, at least for me. That it is now in the past. Move on, and remember him as he was, not as he was sick. So there you have it. A random thought for the day.
On a side note, woo I realized as our culture writes more and more using an electronic medium, replete with spell check, I realized my spelling has been very poor lately. So this entire post was done without spell check! Yaay! If granted when I did spell something wrong, it did underline it in red for me. But instead of hitting right click and having it correct, I kept on trying at it until it no longer is considered incorrect spelling.
They finally put the bronze grave marker on my dad’s grave. It’s pretty simple: name, full date of birth and date of death. Followed by an inscription that I picked out. I think it finally added closure to it all. Of course there’s an empty spot next to his, but I hope to never have to use that one for a loooong time to come. It’s interesting, life goes on. The sun also rises, and the world burns and churns with it’s usual savagery. It took me probably a three months, but I finally got a secondary good ‘cry’ just the other week. It was after I went to harbor freight tools and just saw all the tools that my dad would of loved. So I talked to my mom about it, and she said Dad made her go with him all the time there, he loved it. And we just reminisced about him, and it just finally happened. Tears welled up, and I think I haven’t done that since after father’s day (now that was a bad day for me).
All in all, I think it added an amount of closure to me. I’m glad not a single day goes by that something reminds me of him. I think if that were to happen, well I just would be distraught. It’s kind of analogous to a parent who just decided to no longer think about you or love you. At least to me, it would be more devastating to know that I had that in me to just forget, or to have no feeling. What is more interesting is now I have some perspective. When I would go with him to visit my grandfather’s grave (his dad), I did not know what it felt like to be him. To be walking in his shoes, to know what it is like to lose parents. To me, he was grandpa! I loved my grandpa, and was his most favorite little grand kid. But I really didn’t understand, or know what emotions or things that were going on in my Dad’s head when we would visit them at Forest Lawn. And now, I think I do. There’s no way to describe it, I guess the closest words to do it justice would be, “quiet contemplation”. You just sort of remember, and wish, and dream, all rolled into one.
Oh how I missed his coffee.
Which segues to my next topic, making coffee and cutting mangos! Oh how does this relate to anything? Well, it relates to everything! Growing up, my dad would always cut the fruits. The watermelons, and especially the mango’s. He would get me the best slices and go after the seed. So I literally associated cutting up the mango with the ‘man of the household’ duty/chore. The other day I was cutting up mangos for Chrissie, and I sort of chuckled to myself. I guess I assumed the mantle of the official mango cutter of the house hold! But my dad would always make the coffee as well. Towards the end, when he was unable to, he would always ask my mom to make me some coffee when I visited. So when I make a mean tasty cup of joe, I guess I’m reminded of the man I’ve become. It’s nothing fancy, or earth shattering. I haven’t discovered a cure for Aids or Cancer. But the simple act of cutting up some fruit, or making a good cup of coffee just makes me feel accomplished. And as stupid as that sounds, I’d like to think that by doing those things, I’ll become more and more like him. To follow in his footseps, if only for a little while.
Ooh… I take that back…third good cry just happened about 1 minutes ago in writing this.