He'd say he'd take a bullet for me and I thought, "Yeah, right." Now I'm the father and I understand that now. I tell my kids, well, you know, and I mean it like my Dad did.
My Father passed on Valentine's Day and I've been struggling with his passing ever since. I thought it would be easier and it's not. What did I know?
Odd things make me think of him.
Odd? How about Jethro Tull? Hear me out. I was walking my Lola, had my headphones plugged in to my iPhone, listening to music. "Cross Eyed Mary" came on and all of a sudden there I was misting up. My Dad never, ever, listened to rock and roll, or pop, or r&b. He was an opera guy, a symphony guy, a Lambert, Hendricks and Ross guy. Tull had a flute and I brought that to my Dad.
Orchestras had a flute, right?
I loved my Dad and thought it would fit right in... To his credit he smiled and listened to Jethro Tull and made his son feel ten feet tall.
How about Mike and The Mechanics, "In The Living Years?" The line, "I wasn't there that morning when my father passed away," is hard just to write much less listen to. Man, there are so many.
My wife's Mother died a year ago January when my Father was still very much alive. I didn't quite grasp the enormity of that moment and she said, "I mean no ill will but just wait. You'll see."
Turns out she was more than right.
My Mom's been gone for over twenty years and I miss her every day but I always had my Dad. And now I don't.
I hope to see both of them again.
This is my favorite picture of me and Pop.
Favorite one.
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