This, by rights, should have come between my last two posts, but the fact is I just couldn't bring myself to take it on. You see, he died while I was thinking he just might make it. It seemed he was rallying, and then all at once the cancer cut his feet out from under him. I wasn't there, but I'm given to understand he flipped death off as he left. I am proud; he was my son.
He was my youngest from my first marriage, and his driven attitude fueled my feeling of pissed-off pride. Imagine! Here I was remarried, kid on the way, feeling young (sort of), and here my 16 year old son calls me up and lets me in on the fact that I going to be a grandfather. I loved him and wanted to kick his ass at the same time. That was his life; he did it his way, successfully.
This is bullshit. I wanted to say something in tribute, and I've already rapped it up. I'm still not up to this. My boy deserves better of me, as does his brother and his mother. For that matter everybody deserves better. I'll be back. Still lookin' out.
Regards,
Daddy
P.S. This has been sitting as a draft for several months, so the posting date is misleading. DU
About Me
- Daddy
- I enjoy playing my 12 string guitar, reading, creating art with Photoshop, shooting my black-powder pistol, occasionally blogging, and steam punk cosplay. Oh, and drinking beer. And Scotch. I like most of the days from Halloween to Christmas, but the rest of the year mostly sucks except for a few choice days in Spring (you know the ones). I am getting old enough that people are starting to think it's cute when I get crotchety. I promise you this is going to cost them...except for pretty girls, who are allowed. I also hold opinions, although sometimes my only qualification for doing so is that I think I am right. I suppose you can disagree if you must, but I don't care. There, that's enough about me.
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