Today I sat down to write a post … and I had an idea … I did … but have you ever suddenly heard or seen something that just made you forget what you wanted to say, or just made you want to go elsewhere with your thoughts? Today I sat down to write a post … but first I checked my email, and read something that temporarily made me forget, words backed by memories that flooded me with tears and decisively sent me elsewhere … to what I am writing now.
Seven years ago … and it’s hard to believe it’s been that … my father passed away. He was a man full of life, a generously happy spirit, quick to laugh, a magnet for humor. I watched him work his magic with this, often times setting himself up intentionally as the fall guy, the butt of a joke, and I understood that. I believe most did. Like Lou Costello of the comedy team of Abbott and Costello, you could never mock the man because of it … only respect him. It was a crafted manipulation my dad weaved barely unseen, just under the twinkle in his eye. I believe he worshipped that want to see others smile and be amused, and knew how to absorb the change of the situation when it came towards him, when the laugh was on him. He knew how to absorb and give it back. He taught me how to laugh at myself and have others laugh at me, not to take offense, but appreciate the humor given in that way, and in the end the laughter obtained always wound up not derisive, but only honest mirth … and he did this by being who he was, the real, but humble master of it. He played it well, taking the humor to where he wanted it to go, or allowed it to go where others made off with it, just because the end result was the same … a good time. I’d like to think I have that of him in me. I could go on with all he had been for me and continues to be, but I’m sure, not unlike myself, you have known or know someone in your life as universally special to you in so many universally different ways, and each as endearing to you as those between me and my father. Cherish them.
Today I sat down to write a post … but yesterday told me what to say.
Love you Dad … miss you.
P.S. Here is a post of the email I got today. ALS is a terrible disease.