I buried my dad today. Not in the old turn of the century way with me doing the digging and the whole thing...no, no excercise for me today...just friends and neighbors offering their sympathy and best wishes. It was tough maintiaining my stoic facade as I thanked everyone for coming out, agreed that it sure was too bad and even agreed with many who offered the time tested platitude that 'at least he's in a better place now' and all the while hearing the call of a bottle of vodka that has been taunting me for months now. A year ago I would have made it through the day by hitting the Jager and toasting to the old man's health and now, surprise surprise, I'm actually pretty sure I'll make it through without the vodka...but god damn, do I want to pick up that bottle and show it who's boss!
Most of the family is here but I've been avoiding them, not because I don't want their company and not because I have some deep seeded need to deny them my company...no, I'm avoiding them so I can avoid my mother.
Yup...I'm avoiding my mother! I could ramble on about the reasons for that but the simple truth is that I don't like her. I'm not one to claim that I'm a shining example of humanity...but that woman may very well have been one of Genghis Khan's hand maidens in a previous life...and that's the reason he committed suicide(the Khan, that is)...or at least that's my belief.
I was in the hospital when the old man finally let go and my first thought was how would I be able to handle the crushing blow that my mother's need for attention would rain down on us...and that hurt. I loved my old man. He was a differant sort and we didn't have much in common but I like to believe that he accepted me for what and who I am. I kept hoping we'd have one of those great sit down conversations and come to realize that we weren't so terribly differant but that will just be another of those things that I never got around to doing. something I'll regret and hope it doesn't haunt me too much.
Dad never knew about this writing stuff that I've come to lately and maybe that isn't too bad. He was a fan of westerns and I write stuff that isn't westerns...nuf said. I like to think he appreciated and sometimes got my sense of humor. I know he wasn't a fan of how I've lived my life, 'not living up to my potential' and all that but I hope he understood that I've come to terms with my life and I don't hate it. Yeah, some of it isn't great but parts are fantastic and I have to belive that everyone's life is like that...some good and some bad...and I like to believe that the old man knew that.
I'm gonna miss him! He was a tough old bird and I respected him for that. For being able to take what was on his plate and make the best of it. There are questions I would ask but will never have the chance and now, I'll just have to imagine the answers.
I hope to get back to writing soon...I really do enjoy it. Maybe I'll try and use this as I'd wanted from the start...a place to write a little every day. Maybe I won't...and that'll be ok to.
I miss you dad.
Sorry to hear about your father. My condolences.
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