Water and Animals

So today it has been a year.  January 3, 2009 I got the call telling me my father had passed away. While it wasn't unexpected (I'd seen him about a week before and he was maybe 150 lbs soaking wet, which at 6'4" is not good), I'd just spoken to him the day before and he sounded great and happy and full of life and hope. I hadn't seen him for a long time before that visit home right before Christmas and from what I've been told, he seemed to have been fighting, knowing he'd see me soon.  The time we spent together that day sticks with me.  Not just because it was the last time I saw him, but because he was so happy despite being so obviously ill.  He kept holding my hand, telling me how good it was to see me and this time it felt like he really meant it and that I could believe he really loved me and was sorry.

My dad and I had a rocky relationship.  Maybe I'll go into it in some post in the future, but for now just know most of my life was spent wanting to feel loved by my father and mostly being let down.  I have so many cards from him through the years telling me how important I was to him, so many phone conversations I remember him saying how good it was to hear my voice, how very much he loved me.  I just couldn't move past all the times he'd let me down.  It wasn't necessarily completely his fault, he had a rough life and he tried.  I know now he really tried, especially at the end.  He may not have been the best father, but he was a truly incredible person.  Always laughing, enjoying life to the fullest.  

He is why music is such a huge part of my life, why I can quote both Young Frankenstein and the Great Escape and whistle the Green Berets song.  He is why I know how to change a tire on any car, throw a punch, shoot a gun, take pictures, why I prefer fruit candy to chocolate, why I will always love the feel and smell of the ocean in the early morning, why I'll never know the peace I felt all those hours spent at and on the ocean, why I have such compassion for animals and care about what's happening to the environment.

Any time someone tells me I'm beautiful I smile.  Not because of the very nice compliment I was just given, but because it never fails to remind me of one morning when I was in kindergarten.  My father drove me to school in one of his Chevy Corvairs (a car I will forever love).  While we were stopped at a light, he paused in his singing of Harry Chapin's W.O.L.D., turned to me and said "You look beautiful today."  I turned back and said "So do you daddy" to which he laughed, his wonderful big and true laugh, a sound I hope I'll never forget, and explained to me that girls are beautiful and boys are handsome. 

These are the things I will remember about him today.  These are the things and moments I cherish, that make me smile while I cry knowing he's finally at peace.  I miss you pops.