of anniversaries, reminders, and feels

This has nothing to do with anything except I really do feel this way. I’m having to put together a resource so that if that stupid fucking Covid-19 virus bullshit shuts down the physical campus we won’t all be stuck with nothing to do. So for fuck sake, wash your damn hands, use tissues when you sneeze, cough into your elbow, and if you’re running a fucking fever just keep your plague ridden ass at home.

But I digress, as usual.

This Saturday is the 8th anniversary of my father’s passing. He died of a wicked nasty form of cancer that no one researches because too few people die from it. It was super painful and there was no hope of recovery but it doesn’t involve tits and tons of people so, eh, fuck you.

Anyway, I’m mostly just fine with the anniversary. We knew he was going to die so we had a little time to prepare. And it’s been awhile. I still miss him sometimes but it’s not the sharp, stabby kind of pain anymore.

At any rate, Lancelot and I are taking Mom out for dinner Saturday mostly because it seems like the good kid thing to do. And I am nothing if not the good kid.

 

tears today

I was going to write something pithy, sarcastic, possibly even scathing. I have a little list I keep of possible post ideas, things I don’t want to forget. I don’t have a lot of time to write these days so keeping these bits seemed important.

Only now it doesn’t.

I woke up this morning to a message from a dear friend’s fiance. She had been battling breast cancer since late 2018. Like so many she didn’t win.

My pithy bullshit hardly seems appropriate now.

the greatest man i’ve ever known

My father was the greatest man I have ever known. Patient (mostly), kind (always), and funny (entirely). He was the best dad a weirdo little kid like me could have had.

Seven years ago he lost his battle with cancer. Fortunately it was a very brief battle. He didn’t suffer long and we didn’t have to watch him suffer. At the very end he was with my Mom, as it should have been.

I still miss him, though it’s a little easier each year. I keep him safe in my heart and in my memories, and that’s also as it should be.