Rob made the comment How many summers will I have left is another thought.
What is is about us that when we reach our 50’s we start thinking about the end? Most do it and it irritates me when I do it.
Rob’s comment made me think of a day in 1996. I had returned to Glens Falls, New York to visit my dad who was recovering in the hospital. Part of my reason for returning was to spend a few days with him when he returned home. I picked him up at the hospital and drove him the 10 or so miles home.
As we left the hospital parking lot, dad lit a cigarette, sat back gently in the passenger seat and said, “Christ Bub, that was quick.” I glanced at him and he was staring out the window with a gentle and wistful smile. It was at that point, he and I realized that he was dieing. He was, and this was to be our last ride.
He faced his own death without fear or anger. Yes, he wanted to live longer. He wanted to see his grand children again and he would have adored his great grand children. Alas, that was not to be. He understood the journey he was on and accepted the outcome with dignity. He was a tough North Country logger and had a kind and gentle soul. There are few days in my life that his influence on me is not manifested in some way by my approach to life. I miss him desperately. He was a man, in the best sense of the gender comment, and I am proud of him.
30 Jul 2004 at 09:52 am | #
You really should write more family portraits as your writing, always good, goes to another level. Did he dub ye Humblebub or Bub or did he call everyone Bub?
30 Jul 2004 at 12:38 pm | #
<chuckle>..few of my very close friends would ever think to call me anything other than Bub. Hell, a couple would be hard pressed to remember my real name. Probably originated with my mother.
The humble addition came from ... wow, I can’t remember.
30 Jul 2004 at 04:53 pm | #
Humblebub...based on your writing, my guess would be he was just as proud to have you as a son. I miss my Dad as well. The best anyone can do to deal with such a terrible loss is to live, or to strive to act, each day in the manner a Dad would want. The best thing a father can do for a son or daughter is to pass on the knowledge of how to do this in order to allow the child to better deal with life and loss in their later years.
P.S. That does not mean it is OK to be a Yankee fan.
30 Jul 2004 at 05:08 pm | #
Just a minute - it’s gotta be ok to be a Yankee fan if you are a New Yorker. You got to have something real to have in your mind when you think “acht, spit, pitouie”!
30 Jul 2004 at 05:13 pm | #
<sigh>..Yankee Stadium in the 60’s - now thatwas an experience and one of my fonder memories.
30 Jul 2004 at 06:05 pm | #
“Thinking about the end” is something that never crosses my mind. Who was it that said, “ I am not afraid of dying, it that I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”