Tuesday, June 27, 2006

"Bossy" may be the one of the worst new slang terms to come about in recent years.

But I'll be damned if I wasn't saying "I'm BOSSY!" like all day yesterday.

Fuck that song. Seriously.

Monday, June 19, 2006

I was driving by the cemetery yesterday on my way home from work and I saw a lady standing next to a grave, looking down and wiping tears away from her eyes.

I couldn't help but start crying there in my car.

Not necessarily because I felt bad for the lady, but because I thought about how it is inevitable that one day I will be in the same position as she is. Looking down at my own father's grave and wishing he was still around.

I've never been really close with my dad. We never really had sitdown talks that went all night. We didn't play catch together or anything that most would consider normal in a father/son relationship. He's simply not the loving kind of father. He's a no-nonsense, lead by example, do your work and go home kind of guy. He stressed constantly about paying bills and providing for his family financially.

It's definitely taken it's toll on him. Hypertension and other health issues are signs that he worried more about our wellbeing than his own. He's now retired at home doing a lot of nothing, and I'm working supporting my own family. Thankfully, he doesn't have to worry about me as much. So we actually have a better relationship now than we've ever had. He no longer is stressed out about how I'm going to "turn out" and whether or not he did enough to make sure I succeed in life.

Maybe it's because I understand him more. I have my own family that I loose sleep over. He was the same way. I've mentioned it before, but the reason why he waited so long to get married and start a family was because he wanted to make sure he could support one. He was and is that thoughtful.

Or maybe he understands me more. He knows that I'm struggling to take care of my family. He knows that I'm not the selfish, irresponsible kid that he used to have to bail out of bad situations almost on a weekly basis.

Maybe I'm selfish. I want him around forever. Not because he's helpful with my kids when I need it or because he's handy around the house. But because we finally know each other. We understand each other. He doesn't ever have to tell me that he loves me. I know he does. He's shown it time and time again. I really don't know if there's anything I can do or say that can express how truly grateful I am of him and what he's done for me and my own family.

That's why I dread the day I'll have to come to the cemetery on Father's Day and cry that he's no longer around. Because no matter what I do from here on out, I'll still feel like I haven't even come close to reciprocating what he has given me these last 26 years.