Dad turned 60 today and I haven't come to terms with it yet. My brain keeps spitting up memories of Dad and me playing baseball when I was younger. Then time had to intervene and things happen like diabetes, cancer, moving, retirement; all of the sudden I'm 28, my Dad is 60 and I'm trying to figure out where the hell all of the time between those memories and now actually went.
It's hard for me to accept that the 3-week super-massive roadtrip out west we took back in '98 was the last family vacation I am ever going to have. Mom and Dad just aren't into that sort of thing anymore, and now I'm married with two children, and a vacation with my parents isn't the same, nor is it likely.
It's been really making me think about things; time and family specifically. If I had known then that I was never going to do those things again, I'd have savored them a hell of a lot more. If I'd known how fast my Dad was going to go from working the night shift to retired and sitting at home with two dogs to keep him company...I don't know, it all just seems to be happening so fast.
I guess what's really getting to me is the fact that my Dad is now approaching the same age my Grandmother (mom's side) was when she passed away back in '96. I always thought she was so astonishingly old. She was 67. Dad's had a rough time of it; he had a minor stroke a few years ago, prostate cancer (this alone is an entire post unto itself), diabetes, and God only knows what else. On top of that, he still smokes every day.
I thought these maladies, and the love he has for his grandchildren would be enough to make him take better care of himself, but he has more or less resigned himself to aging and doing it as he sees fit. I was, evidently, wrong on this.
On a lighter note, we did have a great time tonight; Kelly and I took the kids, and my Mom and great-uncle took him out to Ruby Tuesday for dinner, and we had a blast. We went back to the house and had cake and ice cream, which the kids loved. Jack fed Aeryn some ice cream; it was so sweet to watch.
Dad and I have never really been the best of friends over the years. We're usually both so stubborn we fight almost all the time. I really hate that and no matter what happens, that will always be the one thing I will regret about my life. I love him and wish we could be better friends as well as father and son, but I think that life and experience and stubbornness have made that a pipe dream. The past few years have been better, but things still aren't where I want them to be, and I don't know that they ever will be.
I know he loves me; that's not in question. It's just that he and I never developed that special 'friendship' that so many dads and sons share. There's still time though, and I'm going to make the best of it.
Happy Birthday Dad, I love you.
It's hard for me to accept that the 3-week super-massive roadtrip out west we took back in '98 was the last family vacation I am ever going to have. Mom and Dad just aren't into that sort of thing anymore, and now I'm married with two children, and a vacation with my parents isn't the same, nor is it likely.
It's been really making me think about things; time and family specifically. If I had known then that I was never going to do those things again, I'd have savored them a hell of a lot more. If I'd known how fast my Dad was going to go from working the night shift to retired and sitting at home with two dogs to keep him company...I don't know, it all just seems to be happening so fast.
I guess what's really getting to me is the fact that my Dad is now approaching the same age my Grandmother (mom's side) was when she passed away back in '96. I always thought she was so astonishingly old. She was 67. Dad's had a rough time of it; he had a minor stroke a few years ago, prostate cancer (this alone is an entire post unto itself), diabetes, and God only knows what else. On top of that, he still smokes every day.
I thought these maladies, and the love he has for his grandchildren would be enough to make him take better care of himself, but he has more or less resigned himself to aging and doing it as he sees fit. I was, evidently, wrong on this.
On a lighter note, we did have a great time tonight; Kelly and I took the kids, and my Mom and great-uncle took him out to Ruby Tuesday for dinner, and we had a blast. We went back to the house and had cake and ice cream, which the kids loved. Jack fed Aeryn some ice cream; it was so sweet to watch.
Dad and I have never really been the best of friends over the years. We're usually both so stubborn we fight almost all the time. I really hate that and no matter what happens, that will always be the one thing I will regret about my life. I love him and wish we could be better friends as well as father and son, but I think that life and experience and stubbornness have made that a pipe dream. The past few years have been better, but things still aren't where I want them to be, and I don't know that they ever will be.
I know he loves me; that's not in question. It's just that he and I never developed that special 'friendship' that so many dads and sons share. There's still time though, and I'm going to make the best of it.
Happy Birthday Dad, I love you.
