Even though he has been gone two months to the day, I find myself everyday asking "what would dad think about this?" or thinking that he is just in the other room. [Tangent: This morning...I almost yelled, "Dad!! ANSWER THE PHONE!"] He was always the first to volunteer to help someone with completely unsolicited advice, and I am even starting to miss that. [Tangent: As my father/roommate, I can't tell you how many times I would be leaving the house to go to some part of town that I had been to one million times, and dad would yell directions at me as I went out the door. Usually these directions were laced with "shortcuts" which were not on google maps and which were not at all shortcuts, but instead detours down crazy narrow, but "scenic" winding roads. Usually, I nodded along, but went my own way as soon as I got in the car.]With all these changes in my insurance and job stuff, I might actually be soliciting some advice these days. It's pretty spot on that you don't know what you got till its gone.
It may sound self congratulating, but I am impressed by the way I have handled his passing, but that's not to say there aren't times I get so sad that I can't share really mundane everyday stuff with him. The other day mom and I went and saw Argo, and I was bummed he wasn't there, because I knew that he had seen the commercials when he was in the hospital and on hospice and badly wanted to see it. [Tangent: Argo was what I considered a "Dad movie" because anything that involved espionage, politics or historical time frames, was designated to see with him...mostly so he could explain to me what the hell happened when it was over. Not saying I am a dullard, but sometimes my mind doesn't work that way. I would make a really shitty spy.] As we were leaving, I told mom that I was sad daddy couldn't have come with us, but that I knew he would have been really proud that we got through it and fully understood everything without having to play 20 questions in the car ride home.
As a family, we have also tried hard to share dad's memory and I think that really helps. [Tangent: Although I think my doggie Newman and Andre still don't know what's going on.] This afternoon, my best friend (and adopted family member) is coming to pick up his worn-in cowboy boots which she wore for Halloween one year and had a very hard time giving back. Then, on Friday, we spent the evening boxing up some of his books to take to his friends at the Williamson County Democratic Party. My father was an insanely hard person to buy gifts for because he would always treat himself to things and was a chronic returner, so when in doubt I bought him the latest best seller by an ex-president or by some far left author. [Tangent:It wasn't even that he was really a big book reader, but I guess they looked impressive on the shelf or laying on the coffee table. At least they informed visitors of his voting proclivities. ] Before he got sick, I used to joke that when he died I was going to start a library with all this tomes called the "Jim Jones Memorial Library of Political Propaganda that he Never Read." He always laughed...I guess he didn't realize that he had raised a girl of her word.
|oh..don't worry there are magazines too!|