I have been thinking about my dad a lot lately...

my dad and I had a very tumultuous relationship...

but lately, I have been thinking more of those little moments that were...nice...nothing fancy, just the word..."nice"

He was dying of heart failure, and was afraid to go to sleep at night. He didn't have insurance so my mom worked a couple of jobs and I worked a few myself just to help to pay for his meds and med costs.

One time, I got back from my third job and was exhausted. I came home and found him watching TV...I went to the kitchen and got some food and when I came back out, he fell asleep on the couch. I knew he hadn't slept well for awhile now and I think he finally exhausted him to sleep, soundly...

I could hear him snore and his face seemed...calm...

Part of me was scared, afraid that this might be the eternal sleep...but at the same time, he looked so peaceful...it brought a smile to my face...at that very moment, I wished that I had more time, to speak with him, to talk with him, to make things up with him...

I remembered thinking, it just wasn't fair...why did it had to be like that between us??

I laid in the hallway, my eyes too tired to open yet too afraid to fall asleep. I laid there listening to his snoring ready to wake him at the moment the snoring would've stopped...slowly, his snores were replaced with my own...

I woke up again and pleasantly found him still snoring...still looking peaceful...I went to bed, falling sound asleep myself for the first time in a long time...

My dad loved to eat...eating was one his finer guilty pleasures in life...he'd try anything at least once and had considered himself a connoisseur and fancied himself an epicurean.

but there were few that were among his very favorites...

my lovely wife and I dined today somewhere and some of the foods that we had were some of his favorites...

as I tasted each one in my mouth, I tried to imagine him enjoying it, with each taste teasing my taste buds, I could picture him savoring it while he sighed happily and smiled...

he loved water melons...

a couple of weeks before he died, the wife(I call her "da wife" LOL) who was just a friend then, came to visit and we took him to the beach.

It was a very hot day, we brought water but that wasn't enough to quench our thirsts.

As we walked through the entrance, there was a family there at the picnic table with water melons galore. My dad walked over and asked them if they'd give him a piece. I was a bit embarassed but was very glad and GRATEFUL that they actually gave him a big slice.

He didn't bother walking much further and sat right there close to the entrance and started to chomp down at the water melon like a child while juices dripping down his chin and crunching sounds slopping through the air...

he didn't finish it all and fell asleep with it on his lap. We didn't have the heart to wake him but he was blocking the entrance so we finally woke him up and he tripped over the log...

but he smiled...I hadn't seen him smile for a long time...

we walked toward the beach and the sun was glistening on his face...he pulled up his trousers over his legs and gently stepped into the water...the salty sea air seemed to revive him a bit...

I stood behind him, taking all this in...I had to fight my tears cause I wanted to scream out to the ocean, and ask for more time, for more patience, for more...more ANYTHING...

I needed the TIME!! PLEASE!!

But the only answer I got back was the crashing of the waves...

but looking at him, I could see parts of his profile silhoutted against the beaming sun...he was smiling...contently...

I could see him taking it in, I think he knew it was the last time he would be at the beach...

but at that moment...the future didn't matter...only "NOW"


those moments are my "NOW" now...

and I need them...

...and now, to my dearest wife...

I look forward to those little moments when I can reach over, and hold your hand...

the warmth...makes me feel...alive...

thank you, for putting up with me...

I really can't sit on the couches anymore...most of the couches really hurt my back and after I'd sat in them for awhile, I would be in pain for a long time...

but the couch was one of my best friends when I was a kid...

many adventures were carried out by/on/over/behind/under the couch...

There were times when I was the captain of an airplane, or space ship and the couch was my trusting aerial companion that I steered and chartered.

It was where my brothers and I climbed the highest mountains and crossed the widest rivers...conquering all foes that stood before us(and behind the couch).

It was where we were stuck in the jungle, treading through the vines, fighting monsters from the unknown...

It was where we laid out our robots and toys and destroyed whole cities with our Godzilla like hands and feet, it was where we put on our capes and flew like Superman and swung like Spiderman...

It was a place on Saturday mornings when we were glued to the TV watching cartoons while we messed it up with our chips and drinks...

it was where we wrestled and fought and where we grabbed the pillows off and had pillow fights...

it was where we expanded our horizons when we pulled off the cushions and crossed the seas in the ocean that is called "livingroom"

it was where we cried after our spankings and fell asleep and finding ourselves being carried into our bedrooms.

it was where we would sometimes fall asleep on only to wake up finding a warm blanket over our bodies

it was where I could hide my bug collections and foods that I hated from my mom until she found them, and the same place for my execution once she'd found them...

it was a place that I could lay my head down, and read, and go into other worlds in my own time...when I was on the couch, time stood still...

there were no monsters under the couch(only the bugs and foods that I hated, although the foods did turned into moldy monsters)

it was one of the last places that I saw my dad peaceful and blissfully asleep...

no, I don't sit on couches anymore...but I love to see my wife blissfully resting, enjoying herself crocheting or enjoying her favorite movies while I bring her her dinner...

I don't need to sit on the couch anymore...but I will always enjoy others on it...

I hope you've got these, dad...


originally composed by Franz Schubert

The Next Place
By Warren Hanson

The next place that I go
will be as peaceful and familiar
as a sleepy summer Sunday
and a sweet untroubled mind.
And yet...
it won't be anything
like any place I've ever been...
or seen...
or even dreamed of
in the place I leave behind.
I won't know where I'm going,
and I won't know where I've been
as I tumble through the always
and look back toward the when.
I'll glide beyond the rainbows.
I'll drift above the sky.
I'll fly into the wonder,
without ever wondering why.
I won't remember getting there,
Somehow I'll just arrive.
But I'll know I belong there
and will feel much more alive
than I have ever felt before.
I will be absolutely free of the things that I held onto
that were holding on to me.
The next place that I go
will be so quiet and so still
that the whispered song of sweet belonging
will rise up to fill the listening sky with joyful silence,
and with unheard harmonies of music by no one playing,
like a hush upon the breeze.
There will be no room for darkness
in that place of living light,
Where and ever-dawning morning
pushes back the dying night.
The very air will fill with brillance,
as the brightly shining sun
And the moon and half a million stars
are married into one.
The next place that I go won't really be a place at all.
There won't be any seasons-
winter, summer, spring or fall-
Nor a Monday,
Nor a Friday,
Nor December,
Nor July.
And the seconds will be standing still...
while hours hurry by.
I will not be a boy or girl,
a woman or a man.
I'll simply be just,
simply, me.
Nor worse nor better than.
My skin will not be dark or light.
I won't be fat or tall.
The body I once lived in
won't be part of me at all.
I will finally be perfect.
I will be without a flay.
I will never make one more mistake,
or break the smallest law.
And the me that was impatient,
or was angry or unkind,
will simply be a memory.
The me I left behind.
I will travel empty-handed.
There is not a single thing I have collected in my life
that I would ever want to bring except...
The love of those who loved me,
and the warmth of those who cared.
The happiness and memories
and magic that we shared.
Though I will know the joy of solitude...
I'll never be alone.
I'll be embraced by all the family and friends I've ever known.
Although I might not see their faces,
all our hearts will beat as one,
And the circle of our spirits
will shine brighter than the sun.
I will cherish all the friendship
I was fortunate to find,
all the love and all the laughter
in the place I leave behind.
All the good things will go with me.
They will make my spirit glow.
And that light will shine forever in the next place that I go.

I just wanted to say Hi! And let you know how much I enjoyed reading your posts.

Reading what you wrote about your father’s favourite foods made me want to tell you my little story. My mum loved salmon but, with five kids to feed, she couldn’t afford it very often, it has turned out to be one of my favourite foods and every time I have it I think of my mum and think this is for you mum, enjoy.

I look forward to reading more of your posts. Take care of you.

I so much enjoy reading what you write Thank you, moi, thank you.

Thank You Moi!!!
It made me think of my dad and his final days... I remember him in the hosptial. They had removed all of the life support stuff but he still had his trach tube in. He wanted some icecream... He LOVED icecream. after an argument with the nurse they finally brought him some icecream and mom fed it to him... it was so touching... he savored each bite. His smile was bigger then i'd seen it in a very long time... That was the last thing he ate. He died a couple days later, but he died a happy man... Thank you for reminding me of that special moment with my dad Moi....

hi rose, it is very nice to meet you as well!

Thanks you for sharing that salmon story. My dad loved salmon as well, but he liked it raw...

thank you, wren. I am not a very good writer nor do I convey things well, especially at 3am. But I am always trying to be as honest as I can...and glad that I can bring you a little joy...

vicks, thanks for sharing about your dad...that brought a lump to my throat...

my dad's 5th anniversary is coming up...I hope nobody will mind if I kinda write about him from time to time in this thread...

((((to all))))

thanks so much for giving me a place to let it out sometimes...

WHo Moi, please keep writing about your dad. It brings memories of all of our dads to our minds. Besides whats a few tears among friends...Sue