WISH YOU WERE HERE

He was an early Sunday riser, and I’d get a call shortly after BATN published.

He always had a favorable response, but I could tell when he really liked it. He was a very positive audience, an ‘easy laugh’, as they say.

The conversation would then move to whatever world happening – generally sports – was on our minds, and I imagine we’d now be complaining about the Braves offense. The NBA playoffs would be in there as well, but I’d mostly listen when it swung to that.

He really loved – and knew – basketball. He’d talk about match ups, and his pick to win that night’s game. He had loved playing, had been a good player – more smart than anything – but too slow, a family failing.

I recall him being a pseudo-assistant on his sophomore team, advising the coach to call a time out at the right moment. An astute observer…  

Or maybe a few college football moments, agreeing whatever changes were happening, Kirby’d figure them out.

But maybe now he knows how Push, Nevada ended.

Today’s call would have been of a Happy Father’s Day! variety, might have even been here for the occasion.

But not to be. This my first Father’s Day without Danny.

Father’s Day a very different animal than Mother’s Day: Less formal, less gift dependent, lots more grilling. Fathers less prone to be offended by lack or cards or calls (though not much less on calls), more prone to be prone watching the US Open.

You hear the first year after losing someone the toughest, each significant holiday or milestone to be ‘gotten through’ – I’d agree with that. But we’re still relatively early in the process – or it feels that way, despite hitting the 9 month mark this week.

And Father’s Day definitely a significant milestone, one that has me daydreaming ‘Dan memories’.

All the grief aside, my dominant feeling: I miss him. Miss our conversations, lunches, visits – even the times he let me down. And me him.

I wish there was a respite from the absence, it wasn’t eternal – what if we were allowed a lunch per year, or a phone conversation? Maybe a Braves game together?

It’d allow me to ask the things I never asked – but more importantly, just catch up. To say I love you one more time…

I have the same feeling with my Dad, playing in my head today.

I miss him too.

If I could talk with him, I’d thank him for all he did for me, all he taught me. Don’t think I ever did. A cautionary tale that..   

He taught me so many things:

How to treat my wife: The perfect role model with my Mother.

How to treat my children: Positive encouragement.

How to treat my grandchildren: Even better than your kids.

How to treat others: The way he’d like to be treated.

How to handle success: Never forget where you came from.

How to treat myself: Honestly – and not too seriously.

And he’d remind the basics of parenting don’t change: Forgive their mistakes, teach them to do better and be good citizens, to be nice to others – and themselves, and love them unconditionally.

Perhaps most importantly, he taught me how to grieve.

Losing his wife and a son, he never complained – just got up every day and lived his life. Kept moving forward…

Which is how My Captor and I have grieved: Getting up and living one day at a time, knowing leading our best life the ultimate tribute to Danny.

But if my Dad – and Dan – were here, I’d say I love you.

A great way to celebrate today…

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

For 296 more posts like this –each with a wish for a brat and a burger– go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC’:

YOWZER! Going to see Modest Mouse tonight in Charlotte – thanks Em and Duncan. Fulfilling my final bucket list item!! Ever since I heard Dramamine on Album 88 I’ve been hooked. Bunch of the Mouse saved on BATN. Will let you know how it goes.

Today’s music pick from Duncan: ‘She Don’t Use Jelly’ Flaming Lips, added to BATN playlist.