Oh when the saints, go marching in...

I just got back from N.Y and my dad's funeral. I think I feel worse now than I did before I left. Not so much about the fact that he is gone, that is a completely different feeling, and that still hits me from time to time. What I am upset about is the fact I don't think what was done for him at his service would be something he would have wanted. My dad was about having a good time and not making too much fanfare about himself. If he could have had a memorial get together at one of the little restaurants he loved, with some good old Dixieland Jazz playing in the background, that would have suited him fine. He would have loved all of his friends to get up and share a fun story and be done with it. Instead this is what he got:

An open casket in a funeral home with that piped in funeral home music. An image I must carry with me the rest of my life. The guy in the coffin did not even look like him. I am sure that is not the way he wanted to be remembered.

A pastor or priest, I am not sure which, read bible passages for 30 minutes and then we were shuffled out of the funeral home. First off, my dad, who was one of the most unreligious people I have ever known having bible passages read?!!?!?! It just did not fit. He was a member of AA, and they do tie religion into it, but he primarily was in it for the support it provided, not the "God grant me serenity" nonsense. An evening funeral with a few speakers would have worked much better. I would have loved to hear stories about the Korean war from his army buddies, some stories from Central Hudson about his years there. I would have related my fondest memories from my childhood in the late 60's and early 70's as well as the years when I had left home as an adult.

Let's move onto my step mother and her offspring...my stepmother was dressed for Sunday brunch, you know, a nice pair of blue slacks and a light blue sweater vest and a white shirt. Her eldest son wore his "best" construction boots and brown sweatshirt. The other criminal son did not even show up. For fucks sake people, you are about to attempt to steal everything that belongs to our family, at least show the man some respect and put on a tie or something black.

The whole damned thing just is not sitting right with me. I have been put in charge of settling his estate (and his wife has lawyered up already, which is how I know they are going to try and steal our family items) I would like to figure out a way to give him a proper sendoff. Maybe after everything is settled Gabi and I can organize a memorial dinner with a Dixieland jazz band at one of his old haunts. Perhaps on his birthday or something. I don't know, but I WILL find a way to honor him somehow and it will be more reflective of him.

I know funerals are a somber occasion, but, they also should be a celebration of one's life. That part was sorely missing and today I just feel empty about the whole thing. Stay tuned...

Rest In Peace

Be my little baby...

Soak him in and vote! (Yes, I am one of those parents)And, to paraphrase Michelle Auer and reverse it...I already hate the first girl that is going to break his heart!

Father Of Mine...

I got some very bad news today. My dad, who has been battling bone cancer for about two years, is in the hospital for the rest of his life. What he told us was that everything would be OK for about 5 more years, and then there would be newer treatments and he would remain stable. What he didn't tell us was that it was all pretty much made up and that his bone cancer had developed into white plasma leukemia. I am both saddened and angered by this this because, we were holding out until Alex got older to see his Grandpa, if I had known he was this sick, we all would have gone in October when I was last there. Now, we have to hope he recovers a bit for when we arrive in January. I never got to meet my Grandfather on my dad's side because he died of Leukemia in 1956 before there was a cure. I don't want that to happen to Alex. Gabi's dad died young and so both of Alex's natural grandfathers will not be around to see him grow up. Luckily Omi Karin married Burt and I can't think of a nicer grandpa role model than him. So we got lucky there.

Now, back to my dad...we have a rather strange relationship. When I was a kid, my dad did all of the fun things with me. When my mom would throw me into my room for periods way too long, my dad would let me out when she disappeared and warn me when she was coming back. When my mom worked in the Bronx on weekends in the late 60's and early 70's, my dad would take us all out (Suzy Gross, the neighbor and my brother) for McDonalds, Carrolls or Pizza on Friday. He would allow me to stay up late to attempt to watch "The Night Stalker" or "Don Kirshners Rock Concert" which inevitibly I would fall asleep before. My dad was also a musician, and when I took up the trombone, he was very happy. He loved the Dixieland Jazz and here I was taking up a Dixieland Jazz instrument. When I showed an aptitude for it...it really was on...and unfortunately, lessons at home, lessons at school, lessons with Guy Lombardo's first trombonist, marching band, regular band and Cronomer Valley band all took it's toll on me and I bent the thing over my knee at age 15 and it was all over. I knew it broke his heart and I still feel bad, but I don't regret doing it. It just got to be too much.

My parents divorced in 1976. It was a terrible time for us. I understand now why it happened, but at the time I was 12, what did I know? I went to live with my dad because my mom was very difficult to deal with at that time. Becuse of some of his issues, I was allowed to run free and my life became a downward spiral. A formerly good student and athlete in junior high and freshman year in high school, I had become a hard partying, drug taking, thief and liar by my sophmore year. No more teams, no more good friends, just me, dope and alcohol. I did not like what I had become and by the mid point of my junior year, I decided to leave my dad and go live with mom. Now, if you refer back to my entry about Tony Schembri, you will know that moving did not solve all of my problems. It was a step in the right direction, but not a solution. Eventually Tony guided me through the tough times and by the time I was a senior, I was back on the swim team, grades were back in the 90's (-A to A for you letter people)

This bad time created a strained relationship with my dad and I. He needed to clean himself up before we could ever mend our relationship. Luckily, during my second year in the service, he got the help he needed and I got my old dad back. He remarried and everything has been great for him. We have been working things out ever since.

Now this...I knew it was inevitable, but, I wish he had told us the truth. I am very sad and know the next time I see him it will be to say goodbye. We had a great run, but, I am not ready for it to end.

When The Dog Bites And The Bee Stings...

Continued...

My Favorite Things:

Alexander Charles
Gabriele
The Posies
Jellyfish
NY Giants Football
NJ Devils Hockey
NY Yankees Baseball
Porsche
Playing Hockey
"Doing The Voices" for Alex when I read a story.
The Monterey Bay Aquarium
NY Pizza
Hot Dogs with onion sauce in NYC
Canadian Club
Coke (The drink)
NYC
Monterey
Carmel
Seattle
Flying First Class
Sleeping in
Lobster
Roller Coasters
Headlines with Jay Leno
Ab Fab
The Office
Sopranos
Butter Cream Icing
Leaving Los Angeles
Seattle Seahawks
Simpsons
Going to shows w/Vinny
Corresponding with my Posies brethren

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things....

Finally, some weather worthy of the holiday season! I put in 15 years in Southern California and while the pleasant weather made most days easy to go through, there were just some times that the sun did not fit.

Let's start with Halloween. The reason for Halloween was a Pagan celebration for the end of the harvest, the death of the season, so to speak, and being brought up in upstate N.Y. with the Legend Of Sleepy Hollow and the like, Halloween always had a special feel. A chill in the air, bare or almost bare trees, and that feeling of nature preparing to die until the spring. It was always special to me, and California, just did not get it done for me.

The next would be Christmas. Though I am not religious at all, I love the tradition of Christmas. Usually cold, usually snow on the ground. Hunting for a tree in the cold, sitting around the fire, and the smells of Evergreen. This was the time of year I did not ever get used to in California. Sweating to load the tree onto your truck. Dropping the convertible top to fit large gifts. It just never felt right. Well, look what we got the other day here in Washington! This is a view from my front porch.




Stay tuned for part II tomorrow...I must go home now.