this is so dumb, but now that my giant, tough, indestructible dad (who i always thought was 6'5, but his old driver's license i now keep in my wallet says 6'4; still giant) is gone, i can't help but wondering what we lost from his colossal heart that we didn't know about.
i am so incredibly grateful that a group of my dad's friends (and fans?) started this super kind Facebook group where everyone has been uploading pictures and videos of him, mostly playing music. it still hurts, but fuck, am i lucky to have that.
now i keep thinking--we could all die any day. and that's fine and beautiful and the circle of life. hopefully the next plane is gentle and kind and exciting. then again, if i am being completely truthful, i have always had recurring waking dreams that this simple life is the life i wished for last time somehow? whatever, dreams are probably just that. either way, i have made a lot of mistakes.
so, maybe that is the best use of this weird box i type into here late at night. i want to start sharing memories here i don't want to get lost in the aether, even if they're embarrassing or silly or whatever.
here's a short one: we lived in a little yellow wooden house for my whole life between the trailer and the house my parents--i guess my mom--live in now. when my little brother was three, we were jumpstarting the minivan before church and he climbed in, put both his little hands on the pedal, and drove the van into the house. he left a hole in the carport.
about a year after, i raced my dad to the truck before school and got stung by a wasp on the handle. we found out after that a giant nest had set up above said carport. i am pretty good with pain, but turns out i was mildly allergic and it hurt so badly. dad kinda laughed at me (he was a football coach; stand strong, put some ice on it), but i couldn't even do a handstand walkover at dance practice the next day and my teacher used it as an example to point out that because i had ...blossomed too early, i would not have the body they wanted and dancing was not going to be a career for me. i was eleven, maybe twelve? but i took that to heart and let it go.
a couple of days later, dad took me aside and told me he needed to talk to me. i remember so acutely thinking he was going to be upset with me for wanting to move on from something that didn't bring me the same joy anymore because i was giving up and i blurted that out immediately.
he reiterated as he always did; you just have to do your best at something and keep trying if you fail. if you give that and don't feel happy after, it's okay to accept it isn't for you and keep searching.
turns out, he got stung by a wasp in the same nest taking it down and apparently it really hurt. i just panicked as i do trying not to disappoint him, but i was so far off. 😂
life is full of so many tiny moments that make all your tenderness worth it. don't shrivel up or disappear. just live to make the best tiny mark on the ones you love that you possibly can, i guess.
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