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angela_n_huntTurn your back on the world. Sometimes that's what it deserves.
* * *
FYI, NyQuil gives really fucking weird dreams when you're sick. Or maybe that's just me. But damn. It's all material for something, I'm sure, but at the same time, oof.
NyQuil Dreams. Gah! Feel like I'm hungover and beaten.
But I feel a LOT better this morning. Thank you, NyQuil people!
* * *
I'm in a super weird melancholy headspace this morning.
Tomorrow is December 7th. Pearl Harbor Day.
And also the day that my father died, four years ago.
They say that time heals all wounds, dulls and mellows the pain. What they don't tell you is how the feeling of missing someone you love only grows.
It has not been as hard this year as it was right after he died or the first year that he died. But there have been profoundly sad moments this year. This year, my Mouse has been much more aware of Yule and the season in general.
It was always a difficult time of year for my father. I mentioned it even in the eulogy that I read at his service, a eulogy that I only really finished on the airplane as we flew to WA state for that service. The only real case of writers block I've ever experienced. I had so much to say.
And I still do.
I know he watches over my daughter. Over me. Over my step-mother, and even my mother.
But it doesn't change how much I miss him or his big bear hugs or the twinkle in his eye when he would tell a particularly bad joke. I even miss his stubbornness and the arguments that we used to have. Isn't that the most amazing part of all? I actually miss the arguments.
Because now, looking back, I realize that they were all, all of it, his only way of telling me that he loved me. He had a hard time saying the actual words, or so it seemed sometimes.
I miss you, Poppa Bear. I hope you are having a helluva good time wherever you are on the Wheel today. I love you.
* * *
FYI, NyQuil gives really fucking weird dreams when you're sick. Or maybe that's just me. But damn. It's all material for something, I'm sure, but at the same time, oof.
NyQuil Dreams. Gah! Feel like I'm hungover and beaten.
But I feel a LOT better this morning. Thank you, NyQuil people!
* * *
I'm in a super weird melancholy headspace this morning.
Tomorrow is December 7th. Pearl Harbor Day.
And also the day that my father died, four years ago.
They say that time heals all wounds, dulls and mellows the pain. What they don't tell you is how the feeling of missing someone you love only grows.
It has not been as hard this year as it was right after he died or the first year that he died. But there have been profoundly sad moments this year. This year, my Mouse has been much more aware of Yule and the season in general.
It was always a difficult time of year for my father. I mentioned it even in the eulogy that I read at his service, a eulogy that I only really finished on the airplane as we flew to WA state for that service. The only real case of writers block I've ever experienced. I had so much to say.
And I still do.
I know he watches over my daughter. Over me. Over my step-mother, and even my mother.
But it doesn't change how much I miss him or his big bear hugs or the twinkle in his eye when he would tell a particularly bad joke. I even miss his stubbornness and the arguments that we used to have. Isn't that the most amazing part of all? I actually miss the arguments.
Because now, looking back, I realize that they were all, all of it, his only way of telling me that he loved me. He had a hard time saying the actual words, or so it seemed sometimes.
I miss you, Poppa Bear. I hope you are having a helluva good time wherever you are on the Wheel today. I love you.
Love
Date: 2006-12-07 01:30 am (UTC)Re: Love
Date: 2006-12-07 02:42 am (UTC)