Father's Year

It really doesn't seem like six years that pops has gone. It's still surreal. Almost as if I can pick up the phone and see if wants to go bowling or try this new pond I found. I still smile every time certain songs come on the radio because he would make up the funniest, most disgustingly perverted lyrics that would have me nearly crying with laughter. I remember a year or so before he died something weighing on my heart to tell him how much he means to me. At the time, half of me was fighting saying sappy shit to him because, well that's just fucking gay and stuff. But I'm glad I did because I'm lucky to not be one those who didn't tell someone how much they meant before they passed. When I told him that, quite simply, there was no one else on this Earth that I respected more, he choked up. I think he felt vindicated in this shitty cold world in which a good chunk of the population hates their fathers. I had a fantastic childhood. He made certain of it. I learned self responsibility, how to tie a classic trilene knot so I would stop losing $8.00 crank baits. I learned how to treat people and that it's ok to strike up a conversation with a stranger. I learned that anything worth starting is worth finishing and I'm eternally grateful that I inherited his work ethic.  I suppose the greatest thing that he taught me is that a man is only as good as his word and that honor is imperative. I was made to believe that you can either covet what others have in misery or you can keep your head up for doing the best you can with what you got. For those that never got to meet him, I am truly sorry. You really are missing out on seeing, in the flesh, what a genuine human being he was. A friend of friends if you will. I remember going down to the shores of Lake Weiss in Alabama on weekend fishing trips and missing fish because I would be laughing so hard. The things he would say off the cuff were just hilarious. He would pull the fish up to the bank and move its mouth up and down like a puppet show, only the fish would be talking about truck stop hookers. Seriously, I can only aspire to that level of humor. I certainly inherited my people watching skills from him. I could only imagine what his commentary would be if he ever saw one of those dudes that walks around Walmart wearing pink tights. It would be an absolute free for all. The fact of the matter is that today is Father's Day and yet again I'm heartbroken. I would give anything just to spend another weekend with him. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him. I pray that I've made him proud.  I hope the Lord doesn't mind that His angels are too busy laughing to get anything done. Love ya pops,

Until we meet again...