See? I do remember your birthday. Heh. You always teased me when I said, “Is your birthday Wednesday or Thursday?” One of our jokes. Its only because I rarely know what the date is today, not the date of your birth. I still have to look at the phone to write a check. Some things never change.
We really miss you. We do. I asked Jake how he thought we were doing last night, and he said “Almost too good.” He felt a little guilty about it. I promised you, I would not let this be the thing that turned his perfect little world to shit. I think I’m keeping it pretty well. We cried and laughed about stories about you, then. We don’t know exactly what to do with days like this. The Holidays looming over us is really scary. They are going to hurt too. But I won’t let this break him. Break me. Having you in his life was a good thing. I won’t let it become the bad-thing that ruins his beautiful spirit. You would never want to be that to him.
The revolution has begun, babe. You would be thrilled about that. People ARE waking the fuck up. You would LOVE IT!
I had to let the property side-lot go. Man, you should have never got involved with that guy. You used to say he was a weasel, but he was your weasel. Not so much, dear, not so much. Cut throat is what he is.
I keep wondering when I will ever get all the piles of shit all over from your Mom’s house, and your pack rat shit cleaned up. I know, you would hate it, but I am going to have to get brutal and just start tossing stuff out. I have to downsize. I have to make order out of this chaos. I have to make it my own now.
I remember when we were younger, you worrying about if I would still love you when you got old, and I wasn’t. The almost 15 years between us scared you. You never got old. Not to me. Not to anyone, really. You got sick, thats different.
I used to sing “When I’m 64..” to you, kiss you and laugh away your fears. I loved you every day until the end, and love you still. I’m so sorry you didn’t make 64. That would have been so cute to bring it full circle.
I don’t know where atheists go, hell I’m not sure where the Catholics go either, anymore. Recovering Catholics like us are a weird lot. I still feel you around sometimes. See you, hear you. Its okay to move on, sweetheart. I’ve got this. We’ve got this. Be at peace.
Somehow, we will live through today, live through the dreaded Thanksgiving. I always hated that Holiday anyway. Yeah, you’re right. I won’t make a Turkey. I only did that for you.
Christmas morning will be brutal though. I will light up the neighborhood still, with my silly lights on my not-so-tiny anymore line of pines. We will do what we always have done.
I wish you were here. I wish I was calling you in your big truck, singing to you on your 63rd. I wish I was planning your favorite dinner.
I wish you could be with me when I cut Jake loose with his cousins to go trick or treating sans parent. He is getting soooo huge.
Where ever you are? You are loved, and remembered with love.
10/27/48 – 3/11/11