I reckon it is time I write some more. Not sure what about it. This may just be a rambling hodgepodge of nonsense. I sometimes do that.

Lately, I have been trying to “be okay.” Actually, I am not really trying. I AM OK. I think folks are waiting for me to crack and go back in to my previous depression. I am not really sure what they think. Anytime someone dies, it always feels like there is a lot of love and caring and a lot of awkwardness. What do you say? How should I act? Do I acknowledge it?

Dunno…I think it is different every time with every person. For me…today…I am OK. I miss my dad like crazy. He and I were super close, I talked to him damn near everyday and everything funny, irreverent, or downright silly  I do, I can promise you I learned from him.

He gave me my sense of direction.

He taught me how to change the breaks on a car or pull out a radiator on an old 70 something Triumph  (although looking back… I think I was really just free labor)!

He drove me up to Jackson TN and taught me the words to the Casey Jones Ballad so we could sing for our desert (he also held me up when my knees wanted to give way from being nervous). He said we are never gonna see these people again so why not do it and have fun?

He sang old songs to me…all the time. Not just when I was a kid.

He told me funny jokes and jokes he thought were funny.

He called me Princess since I was small. Before all the princess stuff started selling in all the stores.

He took me to see the Snork’s on Ice.

He listened to me cry.

He hugged me every time I saw him.

He fixed my pilot light when his thumb was hurt and needed me to help, but I was too chicken and hid around the corner in case it blew up!

He danced with me.

My dad chose me.

He did or said or taught me so many things there will never be a day that I will be without him. How cool is that?