February 10, 2005
happy birthday, pop
Today would be my father's 75th birthday if he were still alive. I could make a really nice gesture by going to the cemetary today and placing some fresh flowers on his grave. But I won't do it.
I've never gone back to visit his grave since the day we planted him, and I never intend to, either. That's not my father there. That's a hole in the ground with a box buried in it. My father lives in my MEMORY, and that's good enough for me, and probably good enough for him, too. Besides, I probably couldn't find his grave now if I went to look for it. I don't remember where it is in that big cemetary. But I remember HIM.
He was one hell of a man. Handsome as hell, smart as a whip and as ballsy as anyone I've ever known. Even 12 years after his death, I still dream often about my dad. Usually in those dreams, I'm either getting cussed for being an idjit or I'm asking him for advice. I miss him a lot.
Today is his birthday, and I didn't forget THAT.
Doesn't your Mom want you to drive her to the grave? Does she go?
Does she feel the same way you do?
My husband never wanted to go to his Daddy's grave but his mother did, so he would drive her because that is what his father would of wanted.
My above comment sounded like a lecture and for that I'm sorry.
I was just curious on how it worked with your mom, she sounds like a wonderful woman. I mean no disrespect to you at all.
I know your treat your mom wonderful, and love your family very much. One of the reasons I keep coming back to read you is the high regard you have for family.
Again, I'm sorry.
Ten-plus years ago I wrote a little poem one day around what would have been my dad's birthday. I still like to read it near his birthday now days.
It's posted on my blog so if you have a minute or two go check it out. Feel free to save it or post it if you like it. I don't mind.
If you don't like it, feel free to ignore it.
Anyway, here's the link to the post:
And my dad would be 74 come this March 4th...have only been to the plot once, at the request of my mother. I tend to think of it as more a memorial of sorts...'cause you are right his memory and spirit are with those that remember and cherish him, not some hole in the ground. Seems to me your dad raised one heck of a chip off the old block.
Nice post, Rob. Valentine's Day will mark the 21st anniversary of my father's death. 58 years old. Factor in two years of Alzheimer's before that, and we were young, both, when we lost contact.
We fought like hell. By the time I was ready to have a decent dialogue with my old man he was already gone. Neither of us respected each other's situation all those years. Would that I could do it over again. But you can't, can you?
Glad you remembered your Pop.