#gnu dad

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

My dad died a month ago and my sleep and appetite are still incredibly fucked and also the gas is out in my building (gas stove) and I barely know how to use our air fryer but I made dinner for myself tonight that I ate all of thanks to pantry items (corn meal), last week's CSA (escarole + garlic scapes), and an egg, and I'm proud of that victory.

It's 10:30pm and TBD how it sits in my stomach but I got calories and protein and vegetables into my belly tonight in spite of technical difficulties. I used to be amazing at scavenging dinner and making best use of CSA veggies and I am very out of practice. But maybe it's like a bicycle after all.

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

Why did my dad never show me Bullitt as a kid

Steve McQueen was his idol. Bullitt was either his favorite or second favorite of his movies (the other being The Great Escape, which had the advantage of overlapping with my grandfather's WWII POW experience). But somehow we never watched it together.

I finally decided tonight was the time and I wish I could text him about it. I want clarification on whether Robert Vaughn (how many movies did they do together??) was corrupt or just kind of a tool. I want to know how that dark green Beetle kept getting ahead of both cars in the chase scene. I want to know why, when I tried to get him to watch various F&F movies, he didn't say "ok but let's watch Bullitt first and then again after." I want my dad to tell me how much of the driving McQueen did himself.

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

This was my dad. A passionate weirdo whose motto was Go Big or Go Home. He loved his daughters deeply and we loved him to the moon and to Mars and all the way out to Pluto and back.

I still can't fully believe he's gone, and when I think about that I cry hysterically. He was so full of life in the incredibly cliched phrase that sounds meaningless until you know the person it's describing.

I know it's worse for a parent to outlive a child because I know a lot of those parents but this is still so awful. I'm trying to gnu him by just telling everyone my favorite stories about him, looking at old photos, playing his favorite music. He taught me to make scrambled eggs and to be a specific kind of coffee snob and how to put on a bandaid cleanly and how much sunscreen it takes to cover an average sized body (a shotglass full) and how to cook meat with the touch method and he tried to teach me to rollerblade and windsurf and snowboard but they didn't take.

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away—until the clock he wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence. - Reaper Man

[donloco]

White Wine In The Sun by Tim Minchin

To all those I love, my mutuals, that one mad gent at the back of the bus...may whatever gods you call on be kind to you and yours. May the coming year be kind to us all for a change, we all can use some white wine in the sun.

[donloco]

Johnny Cash - I Heard the Bells On Christmas Day (Official Audio)

I’m not a religious person, haven’t been since I was roughly 8 or so. However in tribute and in honor of my father who has been gone nearly a year now I post this. I grew up listening to Mr. Cash and there wasn’t a Christmas growing up that I didn’t hear this. Even after moving out and going on with life, this song always played in my mind.

Anyways, sorry for the Ted Talk, just wanted to share this.

[tarkya]

first 4th of july since you died

robin is, of course, terrified of the fireworks and hiding under the bed in the guest room.

I still think about the time someone tried to sell you weed at gasworks park. we were all so confused, because none of us could really say if you looked like someone who would smoke weed.

we didn't really go to fireworks shows after that - they were too crowded and we all had other things we wanted to do. but we never stopped joking about the weed thing.

miss you.

[torlibram]

Wales v France and a bottle of Bishop's Finger.

In memory of my dad, who would usually watch the second half through his eyelids with light snoring interrupted by my mum chucking knitting wool at him.