Twelve years and I still can forget he’s gone. I can still reach for the phone…and then remember.
I miss him so much.
He hasn’t faded really. I can still hear his voice. That funny way he would grunt. His stories. His made up words.
I look at the steps on my front porch that he made and the gorgeous coatrack as well. I think of a lifetime of things he built for me. Especially when I was a kid. The club house and all the stuff that went in it. The huge sandbox and the flying saucer on wheels what actually had a plexiglass top. The giant train set in the basement.
And there was the years of Indian Guides and camping and horsing around.
And how well he dealt with my coming out.
“I’ve always know,” he said.
“How?” I asked.
“The way you use your hands when you talk.”
WTF? “What does that have anything to do with it?” I cried while gesturing with flailing hands.
I laugh at that now!
I do have some regrets. I don’t let them rule me but I do have them. He was a quite private man. There is so damned much I don’t know about him and Mom doesn’t know and now there is no way for me to know. From the simple, what his word “hansclobber” really meant and did he make it up or did he pick it up in his thirty-six years of being in the Marines and a good deal of that spent all over the world. To more important thing. Who was he really? I will never know.
If your father is still alive, please don’t wait. Ask all those questions! Especially the ones that no one else can answer!
Dad, thank you for being my Dad. I miss you more than words will ever ever be able to express.
I love you!
My Dad with his immediate family. He is in the light green.
The man over him is his brother and that is his brother’s wife
next to him. The little boy is his nephew (my cousin) and the
man with the girl in his lap is my Dad’s sister’s husband and
daughter. That makes the woman Dad’s sister!