(warning…sappy post ahead)

I have avoided a particular CD since my dad died. I just could not put in the CD player to listen to it.

I started cleaning house (physically and mentally) today and thought that today is the day I get to sing our song through my tears.

You see, my dad was a pure and simple great guy. There were also 8 long years of my childhood that I didn’t see him. I didn’t (and don’t) care to rehash why I didn’t see him… I just called him when I was 18 and told him I wanted to meet him in the West Village in NYC. 6 months later I was living at his home in Connecticut.

Years after, I met my D. We fell in love and set a wedding date of 9-16-01. Through all of the planning and negotiation between 3 families (I have 2 families and D has 1) and a national tragedy, I knew I would dance with my father and he would walk me down the isle.

I also knew that the song we danced to would then become ours and it had to be right.The song would be “Kind and Generous” by Natalie Merchant.

La la la la…
You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I’m in debt to you
For your selflessness my admiration
For everything you’ve done you know I’m bound
I’m bound to thank you for it
La la la la…
You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I’m in debt to you
And I never could have come this far without you
For everything you’ve done, you know I’m bound
I’m bound to thank you for it
La-la-la-la…
Oh, I want to thank you for so many gifts you gave
The love, the tenderness, I wanna thank you
I want to thank you for your generosity, the love
And the honesty that you gave me
I want to thank you show my gratitude
My love, and my respect for you, I want to thank you
Oh, I want to thank you, thank you; thank you, thank you
I want to thank you, thank you; thank you, thank you

So, here’s to our song. The one in which I get to remember the essence of who we are, father and daughter spinning on a dance floor and jumping a hurdle that once seemed to loom so large over us.

Thanks dad. I miss you every single day.

I am still here and subconsciously posting less I think because of the pressures of NaBloPoMo. (It also may have something with the sheer volume of work that I am doing right now!)

The year is winding down.. in a quiet way. Yesterday was the 4th anniversary of my dad’s passing… I touched base with my siblings and mom without talking about it. No need to. We all feel it.

I started my day off by metering out fiber and watching Sgt Pepper’s Lonley Hearts Club Band. A fitting tribute to my dad who taught me more about the Beatles than I could have ever guessed. They fade into the soundtrack of my life so seamlessley.

I cranked up the Stevie Wonder in my iPod as I was in my studio. Funny thing about iPods… no one else can hear the music but I am sure they heard my beautiful rendition of Songs in the Key of Life . My studio is right next to the bathroom too… wonder if the potty partakers enjoyed their serenade.

I have pictures of thing in my camera and a missing USB. They will have to wait for now. I have images of a series of mixed media collages that I am going to start working on in December rolling around in my head… they will wait as well.

The cowboy, however, will not wait. Off to American Education week for us!

Have a great Tuesday!

I am always amazed at how this day knocks me on my ass every year. I try to fill the day with things that bring joy… seeing the 3 D “Nightmare Before Christmas” with the cowboy, the Great Halloween lantern Parade… construction in my studio.. and still my thoughts just wander to my dad and how much I miss him.Every day. I miss him everyday.

Before he died we talked once a day. Just about anything and nothing. Just to stay in touch because, at one point, we were not in touch (about 8 years worth of not in touch). But… after that time… it was like we were never out of touch.

There is this void where the “Happy Birthday” goes. And, quite honestly… it screws me up EVERY year.

So… because it is what India Opal and I do… here is a(nother) 10 things post about my dad:

1. He taught his artist daughter to LOVE baseball.
2. He taught his artist daughter to LOVE football.
3. He had a laugh that ignited firestorm of fun in any situation.
4. He made friends wherever he went.
5. He knew how to love you through just about anything.
6. He called me “punkin’” and “mops” for my formative years.
7. He knew how to forgive… and knew how to ask for forgiveness.
8. He was just about as regular of a guy as you could get… in the best possible way.
9. He commanded attention with his smile.
10. I am his daughter… I am like him in so many good ways..

So… here’s to my dad. I wish this morning the cowboy could have woke him up with a birthday song… that my mom and brothers and sister could have shown him how much we appreciate him.

This was our song at my wedding… and I will forever thank him for being the best dad he knew how…

La la la la…
You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I’m in debt to you
For your selflessness my admiration
For everything you’ve done you know I’m bound
I’m bound to thank you for it
La la la la…
You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I’m in debt to you
And I never could have come this far without you
For everything you’ve done, you know I’m bound
I’m bound to thank you for it
La-la-la-la…
Oh, I want to thank you for so many gifts you gave
The love, the tenderness, I wanna thank you
I want to thank you for your generosity, the love
And the honesty that you gave me
I want to thank you show my gratitude
My love, and my respect for you, I want to thank you
Oh, I want to thank you, thank you; thank you, thank you
I want to thank you, thank you; thank you, thank you

My youngest brother, Bill, is graduating from high school. He recently turned 18.. and now is a man.

And as he graduates, I think of the rapid passage of time. I can sometimes sneak a peek of the wide-eyed 7 year old that wrote the essay on how I was is favorite person. And the kid who only knows how to draw a baseball diamond and players. I see my brother in my son’s face. They share the same giggle. They have the same need to run and play.
We, Bill and I, would sing and dance around our little house in Danbury to the song “These Are Days” by 10,000 Maniacs. I was 19 and full of angst. He was 3 and full of wonder.
“These are the days
These are days you’ll remember
Never before and never since, I promise
Will the whole world be warm as this
And as you feel it,
You’ll know it’s true
That you are blessed and lucky
It’s true that you
Are touched by something
That will grow and bloom in you

These are days that you’ll remember
When May is rushing over you
With desire to be part of the miracles
You see in every hour
You’ll know it’s true
That you are blessed and lucky
It’s true that you are touched
By something that will grow and bloom in you

These are days
These are the days you might fill
With laughter until you break
These days you might feel
A shaft of light
Make its way across your face
And when you do
Then you’ll know how it was meant to be
See the signs and know their meaning
It’s true
Then you’ll know how it was meant to be
Hear the signs and know they’re speaking
To you, to you”

The tears run down my face as I think of how proud I am of the kind of man he grew up to be. (And how scary that Natalie Merchant is tied up in some of my sweetest memories)

And I think of how proud my father would be of him. And just how very much I still miss my dad. And how much my brother must miss him too. And my mom… and my sister…

I figured out that there will always we this huge black hole where my dad is concerned. And that I can not run from it… I just try to honor it. And know that we all feel bittersweet… and will forever.

I am so lucky to have you, Bill. You are everything that a sister could hope for. I promise, when you are some big-time politician, I will not be your Roger Clinton. I also promise that I will always be in your corner. Forever.
And, Dad, I will hug him extra tight for you.

So tonight… after what seems to be our weekly outing to get Indian Food… I took the cowboy to see this:

No… it is not the Griswold house… It is 34th st in Hampden. The entire block is lit with an amazing array of lights, figurines, and musical displays.

We were playing the CARS MOVIE soundtrack…. the song SH-Boom by the Chords was playing…. and the cowboy and I were reenacting the cruisin’ scene from the movie. You know.. the one where they light the neon and all the cars “dance” down the street. The cowboy loves that song…. he loves the lights…. he was so sweet “dancing” in his booster seat.

(And I thought… for a really brief moment…. that I saw you in the lights. I heard your voice… I heard your song… )

My father loved Christmas. He loved being Clark W. Griswold. He loved his huge colored lights. He loved the fire in the fireplace. He loved packing so many bodies into our tiny home for that holiday.

There was food, music, spirits… and there was love. The kind of family love that is real, and flawed, and boundless, and amazing to be a part of.

(And it hit me then… while I was telling the cowboy that you loved the lights, and that song… and that doo-wop was your favorite. And that we called you the “Big Bopper”…. That I miss you more now than ever. Your cowboy would be up in the middle of all of that. He would be read “The Night Before Christmas” on your lap… you may even bust out the Old Santa suit and make an appearance as you did for me when I was really little…. )

This time of year can be hard. I miss my dad everyday…. but ever so much more when I hear him or see a glimpse of him in some Christmas lights. I do love sharing him with my boy. Keeping Grandpa Tiger around for my son is my responsibility as a parent and to my dad.

It was a very sweet moment shared with my boy…. and with my dad.