Yeah, that’s a word. Now it is, in any event. The anniversary of Dad’s death is next week, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t get me every time. Even when I’m not thinking about it, my brain does this thing to remind me. You ever been passed by something going so fast you don’t catch it in your mirrors, then it blows by you, and then you sit there going “what was that?”. Like that.
Maggie is sitting here on my mouse, again. When the weather turns, she refuses to sit on the floor. We have to put a cardboard box down for her, because cats are smart enough to know that cardboard is pretty warm. Actually, she sits on me. She sleeps on me all night, and wants to sit on my lap all day. It’s mostly fine, until JoJo gets the same idea, and I have two fighter pilots duking it out for lap space. It’s all fun until somebody gets cat slapped.
It’s drizzly outside, which seems about right. I was chatting to a man last night who said something about ‘your Dad’, and I said ‘he’s dead’ and the guy said ‘oh, I’m sorry’ and I said ‘no, it’s okay’, and it isn’t but it is. My friend Arlene had a tree taken down, and Ari will be splitting the wood later today. As soon as she told me, I said Ari would do it. Ari swings an axe like his grandpa. I mean, he swings it exactly the same way, same form. He was 2 when Dad died.
I grew up with my Dad swinging an axe. Home or the cottage, it was one of those things he did to wear himself out. We once discussed buying him a log splitter, because as kids get older and they have a little cash and they know Dad doesn’t wear ties, they try to think of awesome presents that he would never buy himself. It’s because he didn’t want one. We didn’t do it. Instead, I watch my son channel his grandfather and wonder at the miracle of genetics.
I’m speaking at a Probus group tomorrow. The room will be filled with guys who remind me of my dad. And I’ll tell them stories and remind them how important they are to their daughters, and how lucky they are to still be here meeting once a month and sometimes having to listen to a woman go on about how much she misses her Dad.