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Dad

Today, November 26th, 2008, my father died. He was and will remain my hero. Hero is an annoyingly overused word these days. But he's always been mine. Only one I've ever had.

As we're approaching Thanksgiving I guess it's appropriate to give thanks. I'm grateful for a mother with a bottomless reservoir of enduring courage and perseverance. The Stroke Monster had blasted Dad pretty hard over the previous 14 years. Mom never failed to impress me with how she could stay upbeat through it all and how she could sacrifice for Dad.

I'm grateful for my younger brother, Bob and the way he repeatedly stepped into the fray when crises hit regarding my Dad's health and how he brought so much joy through the beautiful bond he formed with Dad.

I'm grateful for my older brother, Rod for a whole passel of reasons. Right now I'm grateful for the way he put my Dad at ease today...a day of agonizing pain for my father as the systems were shutting down...by letting him know that it was alright to stop holding on and stop hurting. That he would take care of the family. It's something that my Dad needed to hear and something he needed to hear from Rod. I'm nuts about my family, always have been. But the way they helped that wonderful man when he most needed it...I guess I'm even nuts-er about them than ever.

Mostly, I'm thankful for winning the paternal lottery. You don't get to pick who your father is. I don't know how I got to score the one I did. I don't mean to be sacrilegious but when I first got hip to the whole all-powerful all-knowing God thing...well...sounded like Dad to me. As I sit here watching the movie in my mind play back this great epic film of my old man I realize that I always viewed him as a cross between God, Superman, and John Wayne. He was kind, all knowing, all powerful, could fight crime, and kick ass. Not altogether bad traits in a father. I also know, that as he grew older, as life dealt him some harsh blows even before that fucking Stroke Monster took up permanent residence in his brain, that I finally started to see him as he really was...just a guy. But such a very good, very kind, very giving guy. I hope I can live up to that very simple but daunting standard.

I'm sure I'll properly eulogize my Dad at some point. But not now. Too much swirling around for anything to be clear. With four exceptions...

I am so very glad I got him as a father.

I wish I'd been a better son. Not saying I was bad. Just saying I wish I was better.

While I will miss him every day of the rest of my life I am so, so thankful that he isn't hurting anymore...'cause he was hurting alot here at the end.

And my old man could kick John Wayne's ass. Really. Wouldn't even be close.

While I Was Walking Down the Street...

...in Washington, DC last night. I got done with work and walked out of the building at 11:02pm Eastern. This coincided perfectly with when the networks apparently all called the race for Obama. All around me I heard an eruption of car horns and shouting.

On the three block walk to my hotel I saw...

An older black man standing in the middle of a very busy intersection waving a huge flag and singing, to his own tune, "Yes, We Can" over and over as tears streamed down his face. Car after car honked and waved at him with many stopping to get out and hug him.

A group of 15-20 young African American women bouncing up and down, squealing, hugging each other and dancing in the street. Literally, dancing in the street. One, in tears, ran up and gave me a hug repeating to anyone who would listen "This is crazy! I can't believe this," before running on to hug someone else.

A car full of young men, black, white and asian in a small sports car stopping at every stop light and getting out and dancing while chanting "Obama! Obama!"

Cab after cab flying down the street with flags hanging out their windows, honking like mad.

I got to the White House late. There were a few thousand people gathered there. Apparently I missed the airheads who were hurling vulgarities at the building. Airheads because they couldn't be heard. Airheads because if they were it wouldn't matter. Airheads because rage and gloating got in their way of enjoying this community, this celebration, this new beautiful America. By the time I was there it was a sea of happy and inspired people just hanging out. Not really doing anything. Just hanging out. Happy to be in Obama's America. Happy to believe, again.