A line cast, a hope followedWednesday, December 07, 2005
I suppose it must be obvious I don't have many words right now, or maybe there are too many to know how to refine them into anything succinct or meaningful. But thank you for all your kind thoughts left here these last few weeks, they help, really so much you can't imagine.
Dad came home last night, after being cremated per his wishes. The sweet man who brought the box and the veteran's flag to my house was an old acquaintance, and he accepted our impromtu invitation to stay for dinner. For those of you I know will ask, we had lasagna and green beans tossed with toasted cashews and balsamic vinegar. Ok I drank a lot of wine too. Call it a homecoming party... we then watched the movie "Duck Soup" with Dad joining us as it was an old favorite of his. Dear god that is such a silly movie. We brought the box into the family room with a spot facing the TV on the hearth, but predictably he didn't laugh much during the movie. I suppose that this might seem rather morbid in some senses but if you'd met him you'd know it would appeal to his occasional streak of black humor.
Right now he is resting in the middle of the cherry dining table, on a sage green silk table runner, next to one of the bouquets sent by friends. Lying in state so to speak, so we can pay our respects. Mango, the monster kitten, insists on munching on the bouquet whenever he can rush/tackle/block his way within 50 yards. There's a dryish blue filler like baby's breath which Mango eats and then promptly throws up.
Yesterday the chile and cactus lights went up around the kitchen window and some Christmas shopping got done. Plans were made to go cut the Christmas tree Sunday, and tonight was a performance of my daughter's Christmas musical. Work resumed at its usual pace. I have tickets to see the English Beat next week. Life roars along while death sits in the median watching it make laps around the race track.
Tonight my daughter explained the metaphor she had come up with for a poetry writing assignment. Her family is a suspension bridge. She told me I am the cables: if I break, the whole bridge (family) will come down. When one is woven of the kind of stuff my mom and dad were made of, the cables don't fray very easily.
Dad came home last night, after being cremated per his wishes. The sweet man who brought the box and the veteran's flag to my house was an old acquaintance, and he accepted our impromtu invitation to stay for dinner. For those of you I know will ask, we had lasagna and green beans tossed with toasted cashews and balsamic vinegar. Ok I drank a lot of wine too. Call it a homecoming party... we then watched the movie "Duck Soup" with Dad joining us as it was an old favorite of his. Dear god that is such a silly movie. We brought the box into the family room with a spot facing the TV on the hearth, but predictably he didn't laugh much during the movie. I suppose that this might seem rather morbid in some senses but if you'd met him you'd know it would appeal to his occasional streak of black humor.
Right now he is resting in the middle of the cherry dining table, on a sage green silk table runner, next to one of the bouquets sent by friends. Lying in state so to speak, so we can pay our respects. Mango, the monster kitten, insists on munching on the bouquet whenever he can rush/tackle/block his way within 50 yards. There's a dryish blue filler like baby's breath which Mango eats and then promptly throws up.
Yesterday the chile and cactus lights went up around the kitchen window and some Christmas shopping got done. Plans were made to go cut the Christmas tree Sunday, and tonight was a performance of my daughter's Christmas musical. Work resumed at its usual pace. I have tickets to see the English Beat next week. Life roars along while death sits in the median watching it make laps around the race track.
Tonight my daughter explained the metaphor she had come up with for a poetry writing assignment. Her family is a suspension bridge. She told me I am the cables: if I break, the whole bridge (family) will come down. When one is woven of the kind of stuff my mom and dad were made of, the cables don't fray very easily.
