Posted by: canaryinacoalmine | January 29, 2008

his little girl

I’m at a loss for words…this rarely happens.  Yesterday, I started writing with a fever that’s been lost in the last few months.  A dear friend had an expected loss, she’s been trying to prepare herself for it a year now.  I imagine, one never is prepared when a parent passes. Her words and gratitude have once again thrown the reality of this life dead and center (pun not intended).


Last night, while watching the State of the Union Address I was ticked at our current leader and craved to personally smack the smug look off his face. . . especially while discussing the Iraq war. 


Text message exchange with my own Father during the State of the Union went on as follows:


J (using language I shouldn’t while speaking to my Dad): “Fucking A! I am so pissed at the applause and him saying the obvious.  Dad, I’m talking about the State of the Union – ugh – the obvious is just that!


Dad: “Life’s a bitch, don’t vote for one.”


Dad: “We shall overcome.”


J: “That made me chuckle, tell Mom Alison’s Mom’s funeral is Thursday – if this is what getting old is about and going to friends funeral’s then I want no part of it.”


Dad: “This is Mom now (on Dad’s phone).  I was your age when my Dad died.


J: “I was at least six, I remember him in the cancer bed which would have made you 33.


Dad: “Close”


J: “So how old then?”


Dad: “He was 62, died before we got Em (my kid sister’s adoption), I was 34 when we got her.


So, I was 8? Doesn’t matter, I still remember when Ruth died (Dad’s Mom) and you received the call sitting on the edge of the bed in a hotel room.  Your lip quivered as though the temperature dropped 30 degrees.  Her Mom went to hospice Friday and it’s been  a year coming….life never prepares you for this.”




Dad: “NEVER. I still wish I could talk to my Dad.”


J: “ L I know.”


Dad: “Good night. Love you.”


J: “Good night Daddy.”

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