Breathing my Mind into Your Face

Yesterday my dad would’ve turned 77 if he were still around. I spent a lot of time imagining what life would be like for the family if he were here. They’d be in the same house my mom currently lives in with my 39 year old brother. However, 39 y.o. Bro would definitely not be living there. No way would Dad put up with his freeloading. That whole no job, no rent, mommy buys you beer and food and lets you charge endless amounts of alcohol at the gazebo bar, disappearing without contact for days on end while mom worries at home…thing…would not fly. Who knows what he’d be doing? He didn’t know his ex-wife yet when dad was alive. When he died bro was living with a meth addict and her sixteen year-old daughter, bouncing around cooking jobs. Would she still have hit him with that hammer, robbed him, and left him unconscious in a pool of blood had dad been alive? Most likely. Bro probably would’ve moved back to Massachusetts and gotten a job. Maybe he would have settled down when a couple of his friends did. Or maybe he would’ve died like the couple of his friends that didn’t. 

I figure dad would still be in S.C. saving turtles, docenting the old slave plantation, fishing the intercoastal, organizing shit, righting wrongs, tracking every dollar, and driving my mom nuts per usual. He would love being a grandpa. He got to love it for a few years before cancer kicked in. He had that sparkle of love in his eyes when he looked at my kids. I think I got that sparkle 3 maybe 4 times ever, and these kids got him popping off sparkle beams all over the place… The love and guidance he could’ve provided his grandkids is what would be most different about life now. That and the relationship I could’ve developed with him. He’d mellowed out quite a bit when he finally committed to retiring. He was always great at dispensing sage advice throughout my life, but what was changing was the amount of love he was willing to dispense outwardly. He hugged more, said I love you first a few times, and I’m sure I got more than 4 sparkle beams if I’d choose to remember it differently. I bet he would’ve told me so much more about what he went through in his life, what he felt about everything, what hurt him the most, what made him happiest? Maybe that’s the optimist in me talking. 

I miss you and love you dad. Guess I’ll go listen to some of his old voice mails and drop a few more tears.