Father’s day is a week from now. I really don’t enjoy father’s day. For me I would just as soon sacrifice some
bit of beef or swine (Father’s day has no kosher dietary restrictions) on the
grates of the sacred grill being sanctified by the holy smoke of Texas,
mesquite. Along with grilling, I would
be happiest plinking around in my shop with no muss or fuss.
This is the 5th Father’s day since my father
passed away. I still struggle with the
events of December 5 2006. Every time I
even begin to think about describing that day, I am engulfed in what might be
called a school of “darkness fish.”1 It is only recently I have
stopped feeling the ghost of my father in the shop. I still have his folding chair set up in
front of his 1949 Chrysler as a minimalist shrine.
When my father went into the hospital in October I did
things a son should never have to do for his father. He passed away just short of his 85th
birthday, following suit of the men in my family never reaching 85. We all hope to buck the trend but it isn’t
looking so good based on two of my brothers dying before age 60 (it was death
by lifestyle, but dead none the less). My father worked on his car until the day
before he went into the hospital. I am glad he went that way.
Compared this to my 90 year old mother who is currently
stored in a facility, stacked much like cord wood. For a 90 year old, she is in good
shape. I compare her quality of life to
how my father went. Unable to drive
(safely) she depends on us to drive her to the doctor, get groceries and take
her shopping for any and all sundries.
The dementia is getting worse, and watching her slow spiral down is difficult.
One thing I can say for certain, as you age all filters are
off and you are no longer able to hide your true self. If you happen to be a bitter, greedy young
person, but manage to be socially acceptable before the age of 70, after 70 the
social convention wears off and your true self comes out. On the upside you fart quite a lot and don’t
have to apologize.
So this father’s day, after putting on a brave face for my
family; this means going to lunch and playing nice. Afterwards I will go to the shop and pay
homage to my father. More than likely I
will do woodworking, although a more appropriate thing would be to sand the
fender on his car. I will face the
swarming Darkness Fish2 and attempt to contemplate things far beyond
my feeble understanding. Part of this
process has to be how you compared to when.
Compared to going at age 84.75 and literally working on a pet project
until you die, versus being hermetically sealed in a storage unit for 10 years
with death coming in 1,000 increments; I know my preference.
1 – Darkness fish is credited to my friend from a long
forgotten blog in a long forgotten place.
Having chased each other through three different forums, I am assuming
online friendship, she has always said yes, so therefore working under the
doctrine of implied permission.
2 – The little bastards did not wait until Sunday to
attack. They started swarming last
night. I decided to let them circle
around in my head for a few days.
Between work and home, there is quite a lot of chum that needs to be
consumed before I try to run the buggers out.
