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A Trait I Inherited from My Dad

Today my father would have celebrated his 73rd birthday.

I'd like to share with you a trait I definitely inherited from him.

As a kid I would ask my dad to go places, "Hey, can we go to the movies?"

"Hey, can we go to the mall?" "Hey, can we go roller skating?"

"Hey, can we go to the beach?" "Hey, can we go to McDonald's?"

His stock answer would always be a deadpanned, "Will people be there?"

It didn't necessarily mean 'no' but he was letting me that crowds bugged him.

And that a lot of times people just suck. I didn't understand it at the time.

I mean, who doesn't want to go to the roller rink?

Doesn't he know that I have my roller skating moves to work on?

***

I soooooooo understand him now.

I stopped going to the movies. I stopped going to the theater.

I stopped going to the mall. I stopped going to trendy night spots.

Yea, you know why... Cuz people will be there.

***

Happy Birthday, Pop.

Missing Them Both Today

I came across this photo today. Dad, Sandi (stepmother) and Nancy (lil sis).

Thanksgiving 2000. We gathered in Phoenix for a family portrait.

Nancy was very ill and we didn't know how much longer we'd have her.

Because once she passed our family portrait would forever change.

We got lucky and had her another 3 years.

Today marks the 8th anniversary of Nancy's passing.

Today also marks the 22nd day since my dad's passing.

Missing them both today. So much this Valentine's Day.

January 22, 2012 - 10:45

I took this photo a half an hour after I saw my father alive for the last time.

The date and time was: January 22, 2012 - 10:45.

I was just going home quickly and set to return to San Diego 2 days later.

Unfortunately time cruelly intervened with my ill-planned intentions...

He passed away the next day.

Looking back I sure wish I'd have hugged him a little harder; a little longer.

And instead of the single kiss I gave him on his forehead -

I wish I'd have covered his sweet face with them.

And instead of boarding that train I wish I'd have paid head to my instincts...

And just stayed with him.

They Let My Dad In

On Tuesday, the night after my father passed, the heavens were painted with a gloriously vivid sunset. So much so it stopped me in my tracks. These types of scenes can really take ones breath away.

I took a photo of it and posted it on Facebook with the following caption:

This is the sunset right now. If I were religious I'd say that they let my dad in - with great fanfare. As it should be.

After giving the photo a little more of a ponder I decided that it might actually have been the moment that my father was reunited with my little sister.

You see, next month marks the 8th year of her passing from breast cancer and the skies the other night were lit up in the Susan G. Komen for the Cure colors - shades of breast cancer awareness pink.

I know my father was eager to see her again. And maybe, just maybe, the power of their embrace and the warmth it generated sparked the heavens to blaze.

No, not maybe. Certainly.

Goodbye, Pop

Yesterday in the late afternoon my father died.

Besides his unconditional love I got these five things from my dad:

1. My extreme punctuality. In fact, like him, I'm usually early.

2. My looks. In the photo above we are about the same age, 46.

3. My love of classic country music. Waylon, Willie, Merle, Dolly, Loretta, etc.

4. My sense of humor. He was quite the wit. I pale in comparison.

5. My stepmother Sandi. They were extremely lucky to have each other.

His passing is a stunningly numbing loss. My heart is broken.

But I'm confident my little sister greeted him with outstretched arms.

Goodbye, Pop.

But He Employed the Wrong Vowel

As I sit on the train heading toward San Diego to visit my father I have allowed my mind to wander through the years and smile at the many memories of us. Reflection in this manner is sweet. And sad. It's funny how sweet and sad sometimes hand hands as if intimates.

Anyway, I came across a particular memory I'd like to share with you today. Many of you already know this story but it's a very funny one and bears repeating - for my recent fans friends. It's short and you'll Chuck'le (again).

As a child my father had two nick names for me: Charlie and Butch. Yes, you read that correctly - Butch. I have no idea where that came from or how it started but he called for me using both equally.

About 15 years ago I was telling a coworker this story and when she heard the name Butch she twisted up her face and snarled in amusement, "Butch?"

I too laughed at the obvious ridiculousness, "Yea."

She continued, "Well, he got all the consonants right but he employed the wrong vowel."

We enjoyed a fairly lengthy laugh at her apt joke. Just as you will, once you think about it a second more...