I'm having one of my moments right now... Where I think of my Dad and just break down crying... I figured writing it out might help.
Most of the time, I've been feeling alright. But now and again, I just start remembering... That only a few weeks ago, he was here. And everything was fine. Normal. I remember his smile. And the way he would caught when he laughed too hard because he wouldn't quit that damned smoking... I remember how he always had a coffee cup half full sitting on his coffee table. And how he would sit there on the couch with the lights off in the evening, with his dogs curled up all around him, listening to an "Eagles" or "Bob Segar" album. I remember how even when we told him that as a heart patient, he should NOT be going outside and carrying in all those loads of weed. We would either do it, or ask him to wait for one of the younger neighbors to come up and bring it in. But of course, he never listened, and did it anyway.
Happy memories too. Like the way he would make breakfast for everyone. Or make one of his giant pots of chili we would all snack on for days. How proud, enthusiastic and excited he was when we were starting work on his big dream-- the log cabin in he was building just before he died... Its still only half finished, but beautiful. And we're probably gonna have to sell it to let the new buyer finish it, which KILLS me. He sank his entire VA settlement into it, and it was the only thing he ever really wanted in this life. He didn't even get to finish it or live in it. But every time we got a new diesel truck load of building supplies, he would be out int he front yard, watching everything being unloaded, with dreamy stars in his eyes and the biggest smile ever!
Or how he loved to go on hikes in the wilderness. How he taught me to skin and gut animals so you can cook and eat them. He taught me Native American beading art, which he learned while living on a reservation in his late 20's. How he always knew everything about wilderness survival, camping, building and fixing things... And being an INFJ with the Myers-Briggs personality test, he was a great listener and counselor too. He actually did drug an alcohol counseling for the military at the Betty ford clinic in his 20's.
He liked to write too, just as much as I do. And read. Richard Back was his favorite Author. When we were kids, he used to get us all to sleep by reading us "Jonathan Livingston Seagull", and playing the soundtrack to it by Neil Diamond on the stereo...
I think about how he always wore those old black or grey beanies to keep his head warm, because his hair was so thin, he got cold really easy. I always tried to get him to wear a cap, because it makes him look younger. The beanies made him look 10 years his senior, and like one of those homeless guys, as they do pretty much anybody who wears them, lol. But bless his heart, he wore the darn things anyway.
And the tattered old Army field jacket he always wore; he had that thing since I was a baby, and never threw it out. I'm sad though, because nobody seems to know where it is right now. I would love to have that more than anything in the world.
I'm kind of dreading going to his house in a few weeks... That is gonna be soooooooo hard on me. But I need to because there are lots of things I gotta do. I need to get all my stuff out of there, and put it in storage. Along with all Dad's movies and books, and other personal stuff. His old wooden frame couches and chairs that we bought in Germany, and still have.. I gotta put all that in a storage facility. I found a really cheap storage place in Yreka, I just wanna make sure everything is safe. Maybe when I get a job and get more settled into exactly where I wanna live for the long-haul, then I can bring it all to wherever I am. But for now, I just wanna know it will all be there.
I think I'm gonna write a book about him too. Maybe go to one of those self-publishing pages and print up a few copies for me and my family.
I feel a lot calmer now, having typed all that out. wow. I stopped crying, and I just feel very calm. Of course I remember a THOUSAND times that much about him, and that's why I wanna write a book. Gt it all down now, so its never forgotten.
No comments:
Post a Comment