my mom sent me my dad's dog tags and i got them today. we thought they were lost. my sister had them for the longest time and i swiped them one day while she was off at college or something. my mom finally found them in a sewing basket or something. she decided that i should have one and my sister should have one. so i took the one with the longest chain and now it's around my neck.
for those that missed the memo, my dad died when i was four in a plane crash. i think i may have more things of his than i have memories (and i don't have many things). sometimes my sisters or my mom will tell me stories about him, though. i know that he would spend hours in a hot bath reading, just like i used to (and would still if i wasn't so prone to UTIs). i know that often times he was quiet, but he heard everything, as i often am. i know that he was strongly opinionated and stubborn, just like me. i have his bad eyes and apparently his liking for drink and cigarettes (my sisters made him stop smoking long before i came along).
people always apologize for his death. i would have liked to have known him. my mother says that we would have bashed heads more often than not because i am so strongly my own person. what i am told she omits from that statement is that despite the fact that we would have disagreed, he would have respected me fiercely for it. anyway, the point is that people apologize. and i am sorry that i never really had him around. but i'm not sorry for the people we are now that he's gone. my oldest sister never would have met her husband because she never would gone to the college she did, which means that my niece and nephew would not be who they are and, etc, etc, etc.
things i remember about my dad:
(i'm into lists lately.)
- begging him not to go on a business trip (whether it was the trip he died on or not, i don't know. i just remember telling him that i wish he wouldn't leave.
- when we would go clothes shopping and i would have to come out of the changing room and show him my outfits.
- once, when he was arguing with my sister, i said, "i agree with daddy." i didn't even know what was going on, but dad knew best, right? my sister told me to go to my room. i objected until dad said the same thing.
- i remember the day when we were told he died. my mom was hosting a 4H meeting and we got the phone call. i was playing underneath the desk in the living room. my mom came out from the kitchen and all of a sudden i was in my mom's arms and everyone was crying. i didn't know what was going on.
- the funeral. i was sitting next to my mom and my granparents were sitting right behind us. they were crying so much and i turned to my mom and asked why they were crying.
things i have been told:
- the funeral was a closed casket, but they opened it for me. i don't know why. i asked where his glasses were. they had apparently broken in the accident. i guess i also asked why he didn't get up and play with me.
- i have two favorite stories. one of them is that whenever he would see someone without a handicap sticker park in a handicap space, my dad would say, "must be a mental handicap." just loud enough for the people to hear.
- my other favorite story happened before i was born. my oldest sister was sitting next to my grandpa (my mother's father, who had been aptly nicknamed "grumpy grandpa" when my cousins were smaller)) at christmas dinner. she had a lot of milk left in her glass, i guess, and he didn't want her to waste it, so my grandfather drank it. well, my sister went to drink more and it was gone. i think grandpa may have said something about it going to waste. well, my father got Pissed and went off on my grandfather about how it was my sister's milk and he had no right to drink it, etc. i think i'm forgetting part of the story, but it always makes me smile to think of my father as so protective.
one of my aunts told me something else about my dad's funeral last time i saw her, but i don't remember now what it was. maybe it was the part about them only opening the casket for me. i don't remember. i may have asked her to see him with me. i'll remember later.
anyway. ghosty has arrived and i think the coke may have cooled enough for some rum to be put in it, so... commence more drinking. it will stop me from continuing to ramble.
for those that missed the memo, my dad died when i was four in a plane crash. i think i may have more things of his than i have memories (and i don't have many things). sometimes my sisters or my mom will tell me stories about him, though. i know that he would spend hours in a hot bath reading, just like i used to (and would still if i wasn't so prone to UTIs). i know that often times he was quiet, but he heard everything, as i often am. i know that he was strongly opinionated and stubborn, just like me. i have his bad eyes and apparently his liking for drink and cigarettes (my sisters made him stop smoking long before i came along).
people always apologize for his death. i would have liked to have known him. my mother says that we would have bashed heads more often than not because i am so strongly my own person. what i am told she omits from that statement is that despite the fact that we would have disagreed, he would have respected me fiercely for it. anyway, the point is that people apologize. and i am sorry that i never really had him around. but i'm not sorry for the people we are now that he's gone. my oldest sister never would have met her husband because she never would gone to the college she did, which means that my niece and nephew would not be who they are and, etc, etc, etc.
things i remember about my dad:
(i'm into lists lately.)
- begging him not to go on a business trip (whether it was the trip he died on or not, i don't know. i just remember telling him that i wish he wouldn't leave.
- when we would go clothes shopping and i would have to come out of the changing room and show him my outfits.
- once, when he was arguing with my sister, i said, "i agree with daddy." i didn't even know what was going on, but dad knew best, right? my sister told me to go to my room. i objected until dad said the same thing.
- i remember the day when we were told he died. my mom was hosting a 4H meeting and we got the phone call. i was playing underneath the desk in the living room. my mom came out from the kitchen and all of a sudden i was in my mom's arms and everyone was crying. i didn't know what was going on.
- the funeral. i was sitting next to my mom and my granparents were sitting right behind us. they were crying so much and i turned to my mom and asked why they were crying.
things i have been told:
- the funeral was a closed casket, but they opened it for me. i don't know why. i asked where his glasses were. they had apparently broken in the accident. i guess i also asked why he didn't get up and play with me.
- i have two favorite stories. one of them is that whenever he would see someone without a handicap sticker park in a handicap space, my dad would say, "must be a mental handicap." just loud enough for the people to hear.
- my other favorite story happened before i was born. my oldest sister was sitting next to my grandpa (my mother's father, who had been aptly nicknamed "grumpy grandpa" when my cousins were smaller)) at christmas dinner. she had a lot of milk left in her glass, i guess, and he didn't want her to waste it, so my grandfather drank it. well, my sister went to drink more and it was gone. i think grandpa may have said something about it going to waste. well, my father got Pissed and went off on my grandfather about how it was my sister's milk and he had no right to drink it, etc. i think i'm forgetting part of the story, but it always makes me smile to think of my father as so protective.
one of my aunts told me something else about my dad's funeral last time i saw her, but i don't remember now what it was. maybe it was the part about them only opening the casket for me. i don't remember. i may have asked her to see him with me. i'll remember later.
anyway. ghosty has arrived and i think the coke may have cooled enough for some rum to be put in it, so... commence more drinking. it will stop me from continuing to ramble.
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i may be coming to bentos on tuesday, are ya going?