Do Me a Favor?

May 23, 2008 at 2:00 am (Sweet sticky things)

As I sit here listening to the Incubus song Drive, and think about how grim this time of year is for me, I look to the bright side for comfort. Sunday will be 25 years since the passing of my father. (Yeah, I know. Get over it.) He’s been gone longer than I had been alive at the time. He was an old coot, but he left his finest traits inside my mother, and most of them took. I think he’d be proud of me, if for no other reason than to know I’d never been arrested, or raped by a “hommasexual.” (He caught me hitchhiking once. It was the closest we ever came to discussing sex.)

I’ve always resented the fact that he died right before my 22nd birthday. His funeral was a couple days before, and my friends were shocked that I stayed sober on my birthday. Freewheelin’ and I went fishing at Roslyn Lake, and I had two beers all day. (That qualifies as sober in those days.) I got drunk after his funeral, and my older brother and I spoke as adults for the first time.

But enough back story. There’s a lot of dark family stuff happening right now, and I’ve made it a point to look forward on my father’s day of departure. Mizelle has done more than her share, sometimes against her better judgment. Thank you, enablers. I needed it.

I’m close to losing another deeply loved forever-long father figure. It hurts. (WHY does it always have to happen near my birthday?) When I refer to being cautiously optimistic, it’s times like these that put that theory to the test.

A few years back, I met a girl and fell in love. Her daughter happened to share the date with my father. He died, she was born. She’s rolling up on ten years old now, and she left me a comment the other day. Much like KUFO, I’m not prone to requests, but if it’s good enough, I’ll bend.

If you’re so inclined, say hi to my favorite dinosaur. But keep in mind, she’s ten, so be nice. (Her mother is much meaner than her picture suggests, but her nose is only that pointy in her mind.)

I choose to celebrate my little friend’s birth instead of my father’s passing. Her bubbly spirit is infectious, and while I miss Dad, I still have her smile and hugs in my heart.

Doesn’t that sound like reason enough to count down to a happy moment?

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