Christmas with Brian

I woke up feeling out of sorts. And I still do. And it's afternoon. When is this bad feeling of ick that is in complete contrast to the sunshine outside, going to subside?

Will it be at 5:30, when I'm meeting up with friends for another friend's birthday? That's a good place to start. Part of the reason I feel all whacked out I think is because I have to go up north early next week, and clean out my dad's house. Pack up all his clothes and revisit the last place I ever saw him alive. It was this past Christmas.

I don't think either of us knew it would be our last. My dad had texted me a few weeks before the holiday and asked that I not get him any gifts because he was feeling broke that year and didn't think he could afford any presents.

That broke my heart. I'm 36 years old and my dad was still worried about not having enough money to get me a gift. I told him not to worry about it, but I'd already gotten his Christmas gifts.

He then asked me to return them, but I told him no. That I'd bought those gifts for him and I wanted him to have them. I really try to give thoughtful gifts and the things I'd picked out, wouldn't suit any one else.

I had gotten him a space heater after he told me that a. he was always cold and b. his heating bill was very expensive.

But no one wants a space heater for Christmas, so I also picked out a video poker game because I figured he'd get the fun of the casino from the comfort of his easy chair since travel had become difficult.

And finally I got him a book since he liked to read. And since my dad is very funny, I thought he'd enjoy his first David Sedaris book, and I picked one of my favorites:
"Me Talk Pretty One Day."

My dad was always so generous with his Christmas gifts in years past. Partly I suspect because he wanted to make up for times he wasn't there, I can't be sure. It's not the sort of thing one asks. But just the year before, he'd gotten me an ipod nano and had it engraved with Kelly Rose.

Even though Rose is my middle name, I rarely see it in any other context than a legal document and every time I turn my ipod over and see my name there, it makes me smile.

The man who gave me the name, also had it engraved on his last gift to me.
Gift in the material sense.

He gave me so much in the things he taught me. The fact that I successfully used jumper cables and jumped my own car last weekend is a direct result of him talking about cars with me.

In typical girl fashion, I only heard: blah blah oil. Blah, blah. Listen for weird noises." Blah blah.

While my car knowledge is still very limited, I can check my oil, can jump my car, and it's ever something that seems out of my realm, I have enough sense to take it someplace or ask questions.

This weekend will mark another chapter in our lives. His and mine. He'd want me to move on, and someday I hope to do that.

In the meantime, I've got a drive to make, some boxes to pack, and a goodbye to say.

Sharp Dressed Man

I thought I wanted to write a blog entry today and now that I'm actually typing, I realize I don't have much to say. Except that I had another semi restless sleep. Dreamed about Nevada, and when I woke up in the middle of the night, I started crying.

This continued this morning, on my way to work... really missed my dad and I had a flashback of when I helped him pack his house. We propped him up on his bed, so he could tell me which clothes he wanted to take to his new house in Traverse City. We both knew that he wasn't going to wear 90 percent of those clothes, but we both went through the motions.

My dad loved clothes, and he was always a very handsome dresser with his own sense of style. I never had to worry about him embarrassing me with black socks and sandals. It wasn't done. He knew style. And he loved loud Tommy Bahama Hawaiian print shirts. But, he did that on purpose.

When we got to his dresser, I found the Detroit Tigers tee shirt I'd bought him for Father's Day. When I asked what he wanted to do with it, he said, "donate it, because it doesn't fit." I smiled and said ok.

I couldn't resist telling him that I had bought it for him... and then his whole face lit up. And he said, "Well, I want to keep it. I'll keep it for sentimental reasons."

Dad, that's sweet I said, but that's silly." He said, No I want it." I said, well, why don't we give it to Shane?"

He agreed that be ok. I mailed it to Shane for Christmas.

At least we kept it in the family.