*That* Time of Year

This is my dad. From a long time ago--when I was a little girl. I don't know the date the pic was taken.

It's that time of year--the time of year I think about my dad, A LOT.

Today would have been his 73rd birthday, and Wednesday marks the 19th anniversary of his death.

Needless to say, I'm gonna be depressed this week.

Some years, it breezes by and hardly bothers me. Some years, I start in February and stay in a deep funk until the end of June. This year, I've hit the grumpies and it seems to be hovering just off my radar screen to fly by and whack me every couple of days.

I'm sure I'm just a peachy hunk of love this week.

Anyway, I posted this, for Scribbit's Write Away contest. (And I have apparently become link-obsessed in that last sentence.)

Mostly, what I miss is the opportunity to show my dad how I turned out as a Mom (It was touch-and-go for about the first 19 years), and I miss not knowing his thoughts on the Howler.

What I do have is a quick, off-center sense of humor that is absolutely from him. My sense of the ridiculous definitely comes from him. He could get me to laugh at myself, no matter how badly I did not want to.

I miss being able to tell him how I understand a bunch of stuff I didn't before. And how I messed up those promises--I did the best I could, but I still got some (all?) of it wrong.

As always when this happens, I am amazed at how sharp the loss still feels--even after 19 years. How sometimes, even when fully awake, I'll find myself thinking that I need to get home and remember to tell him something.

Yes, even after all this time. I've been told that it never really goes away entirely--it's something you carry with you and get to feel welling up inside you every now and then.

So, this is my Dad--who I miss very much right now.

Now, since I've depressed everyone in this hemisphere, I'd like to share one of the funniest stories about my dad:

*phone rings*

Dad: Hello?

D: No, he's up on the roof.

D: No, she's up there with him.

D: How the hell should I know? I'm down here talking to you.

D: Okay, I'll tell.......OH MY GOD! THEY JUST FELL OFF! CALL BACK LATER! *click*

We'd been getting calls for "Pat" and "Rhonda" since the late 70's, when our town added a second phone exchange. After having answered the "wrong number" for Pat and Rhonda for YEARS, this is how he got the calls to stop for a while. (And this is the inspiration I use when getting a run of calls for one of their boys--Ryan and Mike.)

I heard this conversation for myself--it's not hearsay. He really did say these things, just as they appear here.

See, I really do come by it honestly.