Requiem for a Good Guy
It was 10 years ago today that my father died. I miss old Albert a lot, but I know he’s in a better place. He died 6 weeks to the day after the Lovely Mrs. G. and I were married, a challenge that no newlyweds really should have to go through. But we came through it stronger, and I’m glad that Mrs. G. at least got to meet him (and he her) before the end.
Al was a good guy – he cared a whole lot for his family, and loved his wife a whole lot. He didn’t talk a lot, and he wasn’t a snazzy dresser or the most athletic guy ever, but he certainly knew how to catch a fish and how to fix a broken bike chain and how to forgive his son when he put a dent in his pickup.
I dream about my Dad a lot – usually in memories of family gatherings, such as dinners or Christmas. It’s nice to hear his voice in my dreams again.
There’s a whole lot I wish I could’ve shown my Dad over the last 10 years: I’d like for him to be at my college graduation next week, or to introduce him to my granddaughter. I wish he’d been around when I won the Disney trivia contest. I would’ve loved to have discussed reality TV with him – he had a perfectly snarky attitude about bad broadcasting anyway, and I think he would’ve enjoyed mocking Big Brother and Dancing with the Stars.
Death happens to everyone eventually. You can’t do much to stop it, unless you want to be frozen like Ted Williams, and then you’re still just a frostbitten head. So the best thing you can do is remember your loved ones who’ve passed on, and keep their memory alive by sharing their tales with the next generations.
Soon enough I’ll sit down and tell Baby Emmy all about her great grandfather. I hope she’ll love him like I did.
Al was a good guy – he cared a whole lot for his family, and loved his wife a whole lot. He didn’t talk a lot, and he wasn’t a snazzy dresser or the most athletic guy ever, but he certainly knew how to catch a fish and how to fix a broken bike chain and how to forgive his son when he put a dent in his pickup.
I dream about my Dad a lot – usually in memories of family gatherings, such as dinners or Christmas. It’s nice to hear his voice in my dreams again.
There’s a whole lot I wish I could’ve shown my Dad over the last 10 years: I’d like for him to be at my college graduation next week, or to introduce him to my granddaughter. I wish he’d been around when I won the Disney trivia contest. I would’ve loved to have discussed reality TV with him – he had a perfectly snarky attitude about bad broadcasting anyway, and I think he would’ve enjoyed mocking Big Brother and Dancing with the Stars.
Death happens to everyone eventually. You can’t do much to stop it, unless you want to be frozen like Ted Williams, and then you’re still just a frostbitten head. So the best thing you can do is remember your loved ones who’ve passed on, and keep their memory alive by sharing their tales with the next generations.
Soon enough I’ll sit down and tell Baby Emmy all about her great grandfather. I hope she’ll love him like I did.
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