Spots in My Mind

The last time I took the train down here, it was to visit him for his birthday. Every time after, I drove.  It was his 76th birthday, and when I got off the train, he was standing right there at that tall blue pole.  The whole trip down, I was so worried about how he would look, as it had been too long since I had last seen him.  I was walking from this same direction, and  when I saw him, standing there-by himself-looking for me, he looked so good.  I remember a true wave of relief going through my body.  He had one arm crossed across his belly, and the other one leaning on it, with his and up stroking his chin, as if pensive.  When he saw me, he smiled.......that smile.  What an empty and hollow this arrival was, knowing he wouldn't be there.  Knowing that it's all over.  That look, that smile, that hug.....it is a spot& moment that will forever be in my mind's memory.

I am waiting here....

The Long & Winding Road (the beatles)

The long and winding road

That leads to your door

Will never disappear

I've seen that road before

It always leads me here

Lead me to your door

The wild and windy night

That the rain washed away

Has left a pool of tears

Crying for the day

Why leave me standing here

Let me know the way

Many times I've been alone

And many times I've cried

Anyway you'll never know

The many ways I've tried

And still they lead me back 

To the long winding road

You left me standing here

A long long time ago

Don't leave me waiting here

Lead me to your door

But still they lead me back

To the long winding road

You left standing here

A long long time ago

Don't keep me waiting here

Lead me to your door

Snickers

My dad loved himself some snickers.  During one part of his life, he would eat a king size snickers bar, every day.  It was, hands down, his favorite candy bar.  Each year, at Christmas, he would wrap the mini-size, pictured above, and put them in our stockings.  When we would open them, he would say things like "maybe Santa put that in the wrong stocking" or "if you want help with that, just let me know" - and he'd crack himself up with this, each and every year. He'd sit in his chair, while in his pajamas, with his knees up laughing and laughing, as if he never done this same joke before.  The holidays will never ever be the same now that he is gone.  

And so it goes

There continues to be these days of wonderful sky where the beams come shining through.  I know it's not "him" him, but it always makes me stop whatever I'm doing and think of him.  It grounds me for a moment, and helps me take stock of whatever my current reality happens to be...and it calms me.  So these sky pictures keep getting posted.  This picture was taken just before my friend pulled a major "Clemmie" with his act of extreme grace and my cousin saying he sees a resemblance in me to my dad and granddaddy.  He is always with me.  Always.

Folk Songs

I went to see self-proclaimed "Folksinger/Agitator," Anne Feeney tonight.  The connection is mainly through my mom, but I ended up thinking of him a lot.  I was there with one of my dad's closest friends, and I got lots of compliments on my hat-my dad's.  But really, I had to fight back tears as she sang her one Irish song of the night.  It took me back to my dad's pub and when he would have his performers there-of which she was one, way back in the day.  Between her Irish Lass accent, and her amazing expressions, I felt like I was sitting in my dad's pub-drinking O'Douls.  She made a point to tell me "how much fun he was."  The past tense just sucks.

He would have wanted to see this

The day the world changed, 11/4/08.  I was overcome with emotion at the fact that we elected Barack Obama president.  I was even more overcome by the spontaneous street celebration that gathered.  I stood at times paralyzed with emotion, wishing he was here to have seen this, to see the action on TV, to be on the other end of the line, to see the pictures, and to just be with me during this outcome.  Unfortunately, the day MY world changed has already come, and he is not here.  He would have LOVED Tuesday night, for so many reasons.  I held him in my heart the entire time.  

RS & Fall

This is a picture I took driving 75 mph past a Russell Stovers billboard.  I pass this billboard so often on road trips headed south, and I never seem to miss it.....and it always makes me think of my dad-even before he got sick.  This picture, though not great also captured some of the coloring trees, which is the only reason I decided to post it.  My dad loved Fall, and the loveliness of the slow differences each day brought to these trees around here.  Though he wasn't overly-sentimental about things, he really did love the colors, and it had been quickly becoming my favorite time of year.  Now, it just seems much harder because every beautiful leaf I see makes me think of him, and that is not overstated.  So as I drove down south this weekend, I thought of him, the whole way.  Between the nature, beauty, and sports of the season......it's all a little bit overwhelming this time around.

The Days of Wine and Roses

The days of wine and roses laugh and run away

Like a child at play

Through a meadow land toward a closing door

A door marked "nevermore"

That wasn't there before

The lonely night discloses just a passing breeze

Filled with memories

Of the golden smile that introduced me to

The days of wine and roses....

and you

I love this song and I have always loved this movie.  This is on the "Soundtrack of His Life" and the song has new meaning to me now.  Almost every single day exposes a hole that if he were here he would fill.  Tonight it's Obama news and the conclusion of the world series.  Instead I have this sky that spent most of the day outside my window, and him in my dream last night.  I don't want to say it's not enough, because I'll take whatever I can get.  But it sure doesn't feel like the days of wine and roses.

Beach (2)

Since he left, whenever I see 'beautiful' I think of him.....even if it isn't related to him.  Tonight, here are the colors of things, just before sundown.  Seeing this loveliness makes me think of him.  But that is the regular course of things, I think of him no matter where I am.  In fact, after three days at the beach, I have thought of him countless times.  Whether it be the sausage conversation, the emergence of long johns fashion, the cold wind that he would describe as "chills you to the bone" wind, or the book A Separate Peace referencing,  "he being present all the moments of all the days" and an inability "to refer to him in the past tense."   And of course to the realization that even when I wake up from a vacation nap, reality hasn't changed, and he is still gone.  

Beach

Last year when I told my dad I had decided to skip my annual beach trip, he was visibly surprised and disappointed for me.  He knows I love the trip, and that I make it every year, with good friends.  I look back and wonder if he thought I thought something would go wrong and that is why I decided to stay.  But it was not.  I just wanted to be with him.  The beach could wait.  And it did.....here I am.  It was of course the right decision.  This morning I thought, it's a strange feeling to be grateful to be here, because of course a big part of me still wishes I was there, with him.  I'll try not to over think it and just enjoy my waves.

Rainbows

So one of many days I have dreaded....10/10.  My girlfriend told me that she thought I was seeing all those double rainbows because of something to do with my dad.  When she said that, I was skeptical, but appreciative.  Today, while driving I encountered a lovely sunset.  What was most remarkable about it, was that there were little rainbows on each side of the sun.  It's hard to make out in this picture, but just left of the distant tower, there is a little blur of slight color.  That is a rainbow that followed me for at least an hour, and for many many miles.  My dad left just after 7:00 pm, and I remember my cousin telling me how lovely the sky had been during the time of my dad's last hour here.  And tonight, the sky was lovely....and somehow there was a crazy rainbow.....yet no rain.  Maybe my girlfriend was right.  Anyway, looking back on a year ago tonight is not a good experience.  Maybe I'll just hope for better days....and for my little ship to be welcomed by him when it's my turn.

A Candle for Him

Here's a view from St. Paul's alter where my dad conducted his first mass when he became ordained.  
I lit a candle for him yesterday.  

Cheers

I know I've mentioned before that we loved Cheers, and I would watch it with him all the time.  We could watch re-runs from 20 years ago, that we each had seen 5 times over, and we'd still laugh.  Needing a distraction during this evening I find Cheers  is on, and it was one of those classic episodes, from early on, with Coach.  I wish I could have picked up the phone to call him about this crazy coincidence....to say I miss him is a significant understatement.  

10/8/2007

This time last year, he was slipping away.  It's funny how denial works.  I remember this day last year, and I remember calling Hospice to ask questions because he didn't seem himself, and I thought it was the medication.  They told me what it was, but when he was gone two days later, I still could not comprehend what had happened.......he had JUST been in the pool.  What I remember most from this day last year was his smile at me, when my mom clearly nudged him to remember it was my birthday.  And I remember that he made an extraordinary effort to get out of bed, come out to be with us in the living room, probably because it was my birthday.   Again, that smile over at me, him in his chair and me on his side of the couch.  And then I will never ever forget that he WALKED over to the table in order to write the birthday card that took him 30 minutes to write, that was 4 sentences long.  The most amazing gift ever given.  This day isn't my day....it's his.  And so here I am back where I left him over father's day.  The box is a little worn by the weather and elements....but he's still there.  And I am profoundly grateful for that...I don't know what I would have done if I rolled up and he was gone.  

10/7/2007

This isn't a picture from 10/7/07, but this is him, in the pool, about two months earlier, "chillin" as he would say.  I posted this picture of a picture (taken by my sister) because during his last day, full of life, he watched football with us all, which was "the best Redskins game he had ever seen" and then came back and got in the pool.  I remember we didn't stay in for quite as long as we usually would, because he felt tired.  So then we went home.   That was the last day that he was himself....and that day was today.  The next day he was clearly slipping away.

So today on 10/7/08, all I can think about is that game, and that pool.  I think he would be happy to know that anniversary of his last game, that he loved so much, was a good one.  And as I have said before, up until his very last day full of life, he was living to the fullest.  

Soundtrack of His Life (3)

Here are the Blind Boys of Alabama singing Amazing Grace.  It's on his CD of his favorites.  I know why he loved that song, and the version on his CD is Judy Collins-and I know why he picked her.  The song has come to mean something very different to me.  Every time I listen to it I think of him, and the amazing grace I witnessed that he displayed from the moment he was told what he had, until the moment he slipped away.  He truly personified grace.  Anyway, here are the Blind Boys, taking their turn at this wonderful song.

A Step Show even reminds me of him...

Maybe it's just that it is September, and he's totally on my mind.  But I teared up a little bit during the finale of the Step show I went to tonight.  The grand finale had a priest, a baptism, and the Richmond Boys Club singing.  It was emotional and it made me think of him and his earlier days, before he had me.  He truly was meant to be a Father.  What a great show....

The Tree People

This time last year, I was staying with him.  He needed a little bit more help getting around, and so I went to help.  During this time, we watched a college football game out at Berkley. They did a brief little report on the "tree protesters" and I though, "what?"  I naturally googled it, and found out that people were living in the trees to protest the school's plan to cut them down.  I am not making this up.  As I told him this, he gave me that look that said, "gadzooks..." So one of the days that he and I went walking in the pool,  I remarked how great he did in the pool, and how good he seemed walking back and forth; steady on his feet, energized, enjoying the fresh air, smiling.  His life just seemed easiest while he was in the pool.  I joked with him that he should be like the tree people, only he would be a pool person...refuse to get out because he was so happy in that pool.  I told him we could bring him food and water, just like the tree people were having done for them.  It was fun laughing about this plan.

Today I read that after almost two years, the tree people were forced out of the trees, came down, were arrested, and then the trees got cut down.  Somewhere my dad is saying "Jiminey chrismas...those guys were STILL up there?!"  

Always

I'll be loving you always

With a love thats true always

When the things you plan

Need a helping hand

I'll understand always, always

Days may not be fair, always

That's when I'll be there, always

Not for just an hour

Not for just a day

Not for just a year but, always

Days may not be fair, always

That's when I'll be there, always

Not for just an hour

Not for just a day

Not for just a year but, always

The Footprint of One's Life

I traveled to SD to bring him back "home" so to speak.  It is amazing what was found there, all these little footprints of his life.  There was his movie theatre, his old street, his old school, his church that led to his "calling," his dad's workplace, a random book where he is referenced.  

While at the church of his youth, there is a book that has profiles on former students of the affiliated school.  He is in there, with a picture of him, and he is in his collar.  It goes over his path through the seminary, and his first mass.  That mass took place at St. Paul's Catholic Church in Portsmouth, VA.  I was there earlier during Father's Day weekend, and ended up in touch with a woman who knew my dad.   Here is a picture of yet another of his churches, St. Paul's.

Dad's Home Place

The Buttes

The Commodity House, where my Grandaddy worked during the Depression

The land records of Tripp County

There is no shortage of hay bails in Winner and Hamill, SD.

What a place dad....

His Work Ethic

My dad started working no later than age 8.  He had three or four jobs before the age of 10, before he left Winner, SD.  These jobs might have seemed small, but the money he earned was to go to his family.  So it was real work:  selling bloodworms, paper routes, selling popcorn at the movie theatre.  Here is the theatre, as it stands today.  Taken over by Rick, who loved the previous owners dearly-like parents-and wanted to see the theatre preserved.  Now he pops his own popcorn.  But back in the day, my dad would have his mom pop him some popcorn, and then he'd go out and sell it to the patrons going to the movies.  He worked from age 7 or 8 to age 75. His last "big" job was to cater the MLK, Jr memorial groundbreaking.  He was sick, and he knew it, but he worked it anyways, because it was his job.  The man had an incredible work ethic, that came from both of his parents, working through the Depression.  But as he said it, mostly his mom, "set the tone that everyone works."  I love that......everyone works.

DQ

My dad loved Dairy Queen.  Back in the day, we had one in our neighborhood and we would go there often for ice cream.  As the days wore on, he always had love for DQ.  He would regularly go, and even when he moved away, there was a DQ just 2 miles away.  Perfect.  He would be happy to know that now here in Winner, SD he has a DQ-and they deliver.  

Winner, SD

I can only say this.....I love him and miss him so much.  Being here, in his original places-Winner and Hamill, was better for me than anything else.  Population 3,138.  Home again.

The Feedbag

This picture was taken while I was driving a car, as I passed by...of all things....Old Country Buffet.  It's not that amazing, but I did just arrive in Madison, WI on my way to SD so we can let my dad's ashes go.....and while passing through, I randomly drive by one of these Old Country Buffets. He loved his buffets, and would always look forward to it by saying "You ready to put the ol' feedbag on??"  Honesty, I don't even know where that expression comes from...I've never heard anyone else say it, except for him-and it would always come with his laugh at himself.  I think it's one of the major areas I was a disappointment to him, because I was a one-plate girl.  I remember going in there with him twice, and both times-he gave me that teasing look of disappointment when I told him I was done after my one little plate.  I think it's one of the qualities he loved about one of my girlfriends, because she could hang with him when it came to food.  I wish they had their chance to do their "Old Country Buffet" thing.  I will always think of him for as long as these joints last.  Maybe one day I'll go back in, when they have a vegetarian-friendly option.

Scenes from the apartment

It was November of 2006 that we moved him into this building in order to keep him here for his treatments.  I try to avoid being nearby this place because it makes me think of him, and a particular weekend that I stayed with him just after his first treatment.  It was a horrible time, and I felt very weak in the face of this adversity he was facing.  I can still feel the inner panic I felt seeing him struggle those first days out of chemo.  There would be better days in this apartment, like friends coming by to visit, some good Zio's pizzas, and walks around the lake that was across the street.  But my mind always goes immediately to that weekend.  I was nearby on an errand that took me back over there, and it was the first time that taking a picture didn't help ease my inner-dread and negative emotions.  I almost didn't even take it, but then decided I had to.

I would do nearly anything to turn back time to that bad weekend.  Life without him is so much harder than that weekend.

Rita

He had a girlfriend, way back in the days of high school, named Rita.  So as these ice cream stores popped up all around, he would joke with my mother about them.  His ol' lady friend, and his favorite course:  dessert.  It was also that soft-serve ice cream he loved so much.  He would tease her about wanting to go in there, and they would play this pretend jealousy thing. I've seen them here and there, but had no idea there was one so close to me.  I ran into this one, and thought of him.  The only way I even ever knew he had a girlfriend named Rita was because of these dang places.   Now I just hope that one day I can bring myself inside.  

The Pool

My dad became a swimmer in his 50's.  It was after his heart attack that he decided he should get some exercise.  He started swimming, and he swam for the rest of his life.  I mean literally-up to his last days.  As he became more and more sick, he would go swimming in the community pool.  After his lung collapsed, he insisted on trying to swim again, but couldn't do his laps anymore.  But still he insisted on getting in the pool and walking for an hour at a time. I cherish those "walks" we had.  It was quiet, it was just us most of the time.  And we would talk about everything and nothing.  He would just walk back and forth because the water made it so much easier for him, since by then he was having trouble walking.  Even when he needed to be wheeled in a wheel chair because the walk from the car was too much, he still wanted to be there...everyday.

The man walked for an hour in that pool the evening just before he started his slow slip away, it was one of the last things he did.  The man swam, in whatever form he could, until literally - the very end.  I will always marvel at him.  Always.    

So I have decided to jump in and swim a little bit in a dirty raggedy community pool-see glamours lockers above.  Although I can't swim as long as he could, I just feel a little bit closer to him.  

Mr. Smiley's

So I went to the beach this weekend.  As a child, we used to go to the beach with him pretty regularly.  We would pass by what was called Mr. Smiley's.   Thanks to my girlfriend for reminding me of the name.  I could only remember this playground, and the ol' sign-which is no longer there.  Now it's a Subway and a Dunkin Donuts.  But I digress.  Back in the day, we would ALWAYS stop at this spot for a hot dog, some ice cream, and a little play on their play ground in the back.  Here is that playground, same as back in the day-it's amazing that it hasn't been improved or torn down.  I guess some things do last.  Anyway, a pleasure to see it, and have the memories of him during a long, grim drive back home....love ya daddy.  

Him beams 3

I don't know, maybe I wasn't very observant before, but I swear I see these beautiful sun beams all the damn time now.  Here's the latest, from yesterday afternoon.  Each time, they sort of stop me in my tracks and I feel a connection.  I know it's all in my head.....but at least for a few moments, my head is cleared of the darker stuff.  I really hope he is at peace.

Our Table

My friend sent me a diversity calendar...and this is the month of August's picture and story. I read them every month and just got to August yesterday and this one hit home. While describing all the room at Marnita's table, I could only think of my dad's service. The actual quote above left me feeling like I had been punched. When he left, one of his dear friends spoke of him at his service, mostly about my dad's contributions to gays and lesbians-and their loved ones-in his church. This man used a line that stays with me always and it went, he "was a caterer who did not want anyone to be missing from our table. " My dad....

Hall of Fame

Yesterday, Art Monk and Darrell Green were inducted into the Hall of Fame.  If my dad was here, it's possible he and I would have headed out to Ohio just to see it all go down.  They both were representative of the great Skins years....and the years that he and I both loved. Throughout the day yesterday, my mind went to the pre-season game my dad and I went to at RFK in 1994.  Art Monk had been traded to the NY Jets, and was on his way to a record-setting season. I remember we were sitting behind an end zone, and Art Monk scored a touchdown against us...me and my dad, and all the other fans stood and cheered.  I don't even remember who won the game.  I really just remember being there with my dad, and Art Monk's TD.  

Just Enough

It was a drive filled with thoughts of my dad.  Here, I passed by a Panera truck.  Normally, I would not think to take a picture, but when I caught a glimpse of the side, I had to.  He loved Panera.  He would go there all the time.  He used to tell me, "a cup of soup, and half a sandwich, it's just enough."  He would tell me that over and over...and then I went with him one time.  He indeed just ordered the half-sandwich and soup-but of course he also got a cookie.  I can picture me sitting across from him like it was yesterday, saying " so evidently, soup, a half sandwich AND a cookie is just enough."  He laughed and laughed, and made some meager defense like "well they made them fresh, so someone's got to eat them."  Life is just not the same without him around.

Filing Systems OTR

Driving down the road, my thoughts always always turn to him.  He was a great road-tripper, and I clearly get my road-tripping genes from him.  Today, driving down to North Carolina, I randomly started thinking about the Instant Whip truck I had taken a picture of for "Filing Systems."  Then I started to think about the linen company that had orange and white checkers. I have seen the trucks around town and have never been able to snap a shot.  I started thinking about the people that he worked with, so loyally for so many years, and how he interacted with so many people.  Some knew how wonderful he was, but some-like Instant Whip-might not have ever known they were dealing with one of the most upstanding people they will encounter.  Anyway, not 15 minutes later, this truck appears on the highway.  As I approached, I realized, it is a linen company, and the truck and "graphic" is exactly the same.....it's just "tarheel" instead of DC.   He really shows up to me everywhere.

Him Beams 2

Really, it seems like I see these beautiful skies and sunbeams more often these days.  Maybe it's just my change in perspective, I don't know.  Regardless, tonight walking home, here was yet another wonderful strong set of sunbeams shining down.  On nights like these, I just see this and wonder, is he at peace?  I want to revel in the soft warmth of these beams, but instead I continue on wondering if I can ever fully deal with the permanence of his departure.   

Happy Birthday Daddy

 Today is my dad's 77th birthday.  I was inspired by my girlfriend who lost her mom, far too soon.  She takes herself out to dinner to celebrate her mom's birthday.  I decided to do the same thing.  I picked Chef Geoff's because my dad loved this place.  In the last 3 years of his life, he always wanted to go there to eat when we got together.  My birthday, his birthday,  Mother's Day-whatever.  I didn't like the place because I thought the service was jacked, and the food over-rated.  But as I've said, the man was easy to please.  I think in hindsight he liked it for two reasons:  the coconut ice cream and my girlfriend, who he adored, loved their shrimp and grits.  That was kind of all it would take for him to dig on a place.  Anyway, tonight the service was amazingly good, and the food was exceptionally good.  I even ordered coconut ice cream to go. However, I cannot pretend that I do not profoundly miss the hug we would have had, and the phone call with him, that would have gone like this:

Me:  "Happy birthday daddy!"

Dad:  "Yeah, thank you honey."

Me:  "How does it feel being 77?"

Dad:  "It feels just great."

Happy birthday daddy.  Miss you tons.

Fuck Cancer

When he got sick he was completely determined to treat it, fight it, and live with it.  He wanted to get the treatment he needed but continue to live his life, as regularly as possible.  He would say to the doctor during conversations about chemo "can I continue to work, like Tony Snow?" Even at 75, with late-stage cancer, he still wanted to be able to work-what a man.  At the time, Tony Snow was battling his second round with cancer, and needing chemo, all the while continuing in his high pressure job.  He was a source of inspiration for my dad, even though he (and I) couldn't disagree with him more politically and professionally.  But cancer eliminates those barriers that separate us.  At the time, I just wanted my dad to be able to work, and live, as Tony Snow had been doing.  Now I would just settle for live.  Yesterday, Tony Snow died, leaving behind three young kids, and a wife.  My heart hurts for his family.    I know my dad doesn't take kindly to this news, I can see him shaking his head, his mouth pulling to the side, making an audible sound-as if to say, "shucks."   

Repeating History

Back in the day, he lived in town.  So did my Godfather.  They both used to shop for their alcohol from one place in particular.....it was Pearson's.  It was probably at least a year after I lived in town and was frequenting Pearson's that I realized it was his ol' stomping grounds. Since learning that, I always took some measure of pride of being a second generation customer.  I still do, it's just different now....every time I walk in I think of him, and it hurts. And I walk in frequently.

Clouds in Heaven

When I saw these clouds, I thought of him.  I knew why, but I was having a hard time finding the words to write it, until I found what I wrote to him in my journal on 12/18/2007:

"Dear Daddy,

Back when I was younger, I pictured the after life as a spot on a big, puffy cloud.  I would look up at the sky and see a cloud and think "one day that will be my spot."  With that "spot" came the ability to look over my friends & family-keeping tabs on them.  Can you see me?  Are you with me?  I would feel some sense of comfort if I knew you were here in some way, however different it may be from how I want you here.  Sometimes I feel you pushing me along-or coming in my dream to ask me the question, "what about me is the same?"  Perhaps you leaving will be what teaches me to have faith?  Faith that although unseen you are still here somehow, guiding me, giving me help, showing me answers to some pretty dark questions, and just keeping tabs on me.  So if you can, stay near me."  

So that is what it is, when I see the crisp, puffy clouds that look so heavenly to me.....I see him in my naive image of after-life, and he seems nearby.

17th & K

For a period of time, he worked downtown with my mom.  Whenever I drove past this part of town with them, they would both sort of drop whatever we had been talking about to search about for "their corner" or "their building" or "their park" (pictured above).  Of course, this would be some 35 years later (give or take) and they still both needed to spot their "old haunts."  He really loved my mom.

In the last year of his life, I was working downtown at 21st & K.  My sister was working at 17th & K (when east side).  Small small word.

Signage

Here I am in a random city, heading to a baseball game, just for the sake of seeing a stadium.  Yeah he would be into this.  And literally, just two or three blocks away, is this church.  He was definitely deeply defined and lived by his faith.  Before I was here, he was priest.....a very good priest by all accounts, and by some of the times I have seen him shine in his forms of ministry.  Although we didn't see eye-to-eye on the subject of religion, I always have had a deep respect for his faith, for his contribution, and for how I firmly believe it guided him to be the incredibly kind, decent, unselfish, all-loving person that he was.  Perhaps not literally, but figuratively, a Saint.

Bull and Finch

So I went to Boston.  He was a big fan of Cheers.  I was a huge fan of Cheers, because for some unknown reason I was allowed and encouraged to watch this show, which can still make me laugh out loud.  He and I would still talk about some of our favorite moments from Cheers, even up to and including some of his final years...we are talking 15 years later.  If I was with him, and a rerun came on, we considered it a gold mine.  One of his most memorable episodes was when Norm ended up carrying Evan Drake across his front yard in his pajamas.  This would crack him up anytime he saw Evan Drake (Tom Skerritt) in the many years to follow.  In turn, I cannot see him without thinking of my dad cracking up laughing.  It was just another thing that we bonded over....it was the simple things he included me in that made me feel so included.

Bounty Hunters

Whenever I would take a train trip, he would always advise me, in the most serious of voices..."you gotta be on the look out for bounty hunters and bandits."  I would always entertain this line of advice from him, and I would even discuss the possibility of a good ol' fashion murder-mystery while ridin the rails.  It's my first time on the train since he left, and I was consumed with thoughts of him, and what he would be saying to me on the phone....."have you looked everyone over real good?"  or  "the bandits can come up over the hills quickly with their horses" or "are there any suspicious looking folks on your train"....actually this would go on and on.  This was most true during my cross country train trip.  Every day we would go over all the questionable characters or goings-on.  He was so much fun.

Soundtrack of His Life (2)

So tonight, my friend and I were in an Irish bar with an Irish band.  I begged Verly to go ask them to play "Four Green Fields" and because she is far more courageous than me, she did it for me.  I didn't even have to tell her why I wanted them to play the song.  She walked up and said "Four Green Fields" and he just nodded his head and then played it two songs later.  It's on his "Soundtrack of His Life."  And I really believe that although it's about suffering of a totally different type, place, and time, that it must have resinated for him and his family's heritage.  It was hard hearing it live for the first time since he left me, but I am completely grateful for it, and I owe it to Verly.  

Rain Storms

Since I grew up in the near-in suburbs, I never "saw" rain like this....until he took me west.  I remember, like it was yesterday (I was 8 years old), driving through the flat, wide open plain states, with not a tree in sight.  Off in the distance, I would see these huge blots of gray and he explained that was rain falling.  I was amazed by that....because my experience with rain was just that it falls on top of you!  And so whenever I can "see" rain storms I think of that trip, back to his "homeland."  It definitely became one of my favorite sights.  This was a storm that I spotted from DC, that was clearly falling across the river, in Virginia.    

Videotape

Since I heard this song for the first time live, I fell in love with it.  But now I listen to it about once a day because it is so poignant both musically and lyrically.   Several of the lyrics pull at me every time I listen.  One specific lyric "today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen...."  He said something similar to me the day before I believe he started his slow slip away.  I let him in the car, came around and sat behind the drivers seat, he leaned over a little bit and told me "that was the best Redskins game I have ever seen."  It was a very good game, but that description has always stuck with me, because it seemed slightly over the top since he had seen a lot of great Skins games.  But I think I understand now.

Here it is, Radiohead Live