Memories

I never really went through that phase of being embarrassed by my parents. It probably helps that my Mom is other-wordly beautiful and my Dad was ungodly cool. I mean, sure, I would have them drop me off like a block away from the movie theater, but that was way more because that was what I was "expected" to have them do than because I was actually embarrassed of them.

I remember going to Kennebunkport when I was 14, and thinking how great it was to be away, where I could unabashedly hold my Dad's hand as we walked around, not having to worry that my friends would think I was a dork for adoring him so much. Thinking how great it was that I could acknowledge how cool my Mom's fashion sense was as we shopped, without that same worry.

I remember when my Dad was running for school committee, and my parents and aunt and uncle were out in front of my school, campaigning. My boyfriend at the time drove me to school one morning, and as we got out of the car, my Dad and my uncle began predictably teasing us. We, particularly I, pretended to be absolutely mortified, of course. But secretly, we, particularly I, found it pretty hilarious. And my Dad clocked that instantly, of course. I still remember the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I remember going to my Dad's office 12 years ago today, when we'd been sent home from work. I know I've talked about this before. He was still my ride in those days, since I moved into Boston the following week. I remember feeling exponentially safer, just being with him. I remember him talking on the phone with my brother, comforting him, keeping him calm, as he was able to do in a way no one else ever could.

Overall, I think I'm adjusting to my sucky new normal. I'll be relatively fine for stretches of time - even days, and then, WHAM! It's like, "HOLY SHIT. MY DAD DIED." It's like a foot to the gut. Or some little, seemingly insignificant thing will slam me, and I'll miss him so much I can't breathe around the enormous lump that instantly lodges in my throat.

He was just so rockingly awesome. He was self possessed, and so much cooler than I ever was or will be. He had this natural understanding of humanity that even his later crotchetiness couldn't entirely erase. It was why not one of the five of us EVER put anything over on him, EVER. But it was also why he sometimes didn't call us out on our shenanigans, but rather winkingly accepted them.

There is just a giant awesomeness vacuum in my life now. And I'm really grateful that I was never embarrassed by my parents, because I feel like it would've cost me precious moments that I now treasure.