Living and Loving

The days go by,
They always do.

When I was a kid, I had this view of life where it came and went in stages. It was like in those Life Cycle books my mom made me read. Whatever to whatever to whatever to adult to dead.

I grew. I got bigger. I filled out. I got stronger. And faster. And smarter. And visions of commas danced around in my head.

Today's Father's Day. I spoke to my dad this morning. It was awesome. Today's conversation is the first that I tape recorded. I also caught a comment from the Alzheimer's haters. But I digress. Soon, I hope to publish tape recordings. There's your coming attraction.

My dad was noticeably upset on the phone today. I wasn't sure the cause. My mother is going on a trip to Italy for 2 weeks. My cousin will take care of my dad during that time. I'll see him next weekend at a graduation party.

He was also in transition from Monroe to Ocean Grove recently. Whatever it was, I knew it was there. This was the reason for my first question about him running. I believe that if he were in elevated spirits, his answer would have been more positive. He associates running with positive feelings.

His answer said it all. I knew he was feeling in the dumps. I wanted to talk to him for a long time.

He spoke to TIffany and told her that he was feeling down. And that sealed the deal. She cheered him up. I talked to him again and he told me too. Then I had some conversation with the consideration in mind that I only wanted to lift his spirits and guided my conversation accordingly. I'd have to listen to it again to dissect the intention of each component.

The end result was that he told me I really made him feel better. And it came so quickly. I was very happy but I still wanted to talk to him. Now to appreciate his good mood because it's so uplifting.

Overall, it was a great conversation and I look forward to seeing him next weekend. I will be bringing the camcorder.

Posted by F.Newara at 09:29 PM | Permalink

When I was 5, we bought a boat for the lake behind my house. It was green. We went fishing a few times. He liked spending time with me, it seemed. But he wound up being too busy most of the time. Or too tired, sleeping on the couch. I didn't care much, or so I thought. I still got him the Buds from the fridge and popped them open, thumbs sliding, maybe a sip or two.

Don Mattingly, Dave Winfield, or Ricky Henderson (certainly not Bobby Meachem) knocking one out and Phil Rizzuto saying "Dave Winfield, this Bud's for you!"

When I was 6, we went to California. Some of my dad's former colleauges met us for dinner. I made a scene at the table. On the ground smacking my arms and legs on the floor. I don't know why, my mom says one of the women was bothering me. My dad took me to the bathroom and I think he yelled at me. He didn't hit me though. He rarely disciplined me like that. If anything he was just kinda moody. He didn't yell at me really, but he certainly didn't talk to me either. We never discussed school or my class subjects. Not once that I can remember. My dad wasn't the student. He was the entrepreneur.

But I never discussed my dad's business with him. But he would take me to work with him, which was my most favorite way to spend a Saturday. I was accustomed to waking up early Saturday morning because I routinely had soccer practice. We would wake up early. He'd take his blood pressure medicine with grapefruit juice (which by the way i thought was contra-indicated). I'd sit sleepy-eyed and bushy-tailed at the kitchen table.

We'd drive to Congers, and later in life Vails Gate. I'll never forget my very first bacon & egg sandwich. My dad stopped at this deli near the lumberyard. They knew him, he knew them. He laughed. He got me a sandwich, with pepper and ketchup. It was love at first sight. Bite n' Sniff.

When they had a Grand Opening for the new, much larger lumberyard and store, I dressed up as a clown. So did my sister. That was great. And fun and cool.

When I was 16 and just got my license, my dad let me drive the Corvette. We circled the high school parking lot. Once he was confident I'd be good on the road, we took off. I took a route that somehow didn't require much stopping. Granted, it required a few illegal stops.

But then we got stuck at the red light in front of the K-Mart Plaza in downtown Monroe. I couldn't even dare run it because it turned red well before I arrived at the light and my dad had just recently lectured me on driving too fast in a red Corvette, the cops were all over the place.

Green light. I stalled. Engine wouldn't start, which wasn't that surprising because the piece of shit always had problems with this or that, mostly the battery. Cars honking, top down, June heat crashing on my head, making me sweat. All the other cars could see in the car. At me struggling to get the engine to turn over. My dad yells, get out, let me do it. So we ran around each other's side and he finally got it going, fishtailing the first 20 feet as we peeled away.

Christmas-early 90s. We're scared as we open presents. Not much talking, not that much fun. But I got some Nintendo games so that was cool. I blocked out most of the rest except for him screaming about there being too much crap in the house and that he couldn't stand the clutter.

Posted by F.Newara at 11:55 PM | Permalink