Sometimes

Thursday, July 20, 2006 1:18 AM

Bad day at Black Rock. That's what my Dad used to call days like this. Bad day at Black Rock.

I miss my Dad. I'm almost 50 years old. I'm at an age when folks expect a lot from you sometimes. ( Not here, by the way.. this is paradise!) In fact in many ways who you are and how you're treated is based solely on your performance as an adult on a day to day basis.
I live in the Midwest, I'm surrounded by working men and women who take very little time to be careful of what they say, or to extend a kind word. It's a harsh place sometimes living in one of the poorest places in the state.

I miss my Dad because he was one of the few people in my life who accepted me the way I am.
Warts and all. He didn't expect me to be proper and not forward. He didn't expect me to be girly and not geeky. He wasn't particularly fond of SciFi at all, yet he didn't hesitate to hold the antenna on our old Zenith just so because I wanted to see Kirk and Spock boldly go where no man ( or girl!) had gone before. He never discouraged me. I read Asimov, Heinlein, and Superman comic books. I wrote scifi stories ( won a prize in 4th grade! only thing I ever won besides a white pony from the Bookmobile, but that's another story. I can hear the crickets now..... wtf is a Bookmobile?) He liked me just the way I was. Didn't let me ever think that I wasn't perfectly special just the way I was.

Thank you Dad. I love you and I miss you.

DiDi

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