Volume LXXXVII: Fare Well, Dad

Well, I suppose this isn’t going to seem like a very Good Edition of The Good News Journal, as I’m Writing to both re-Member and Wish Fare Well to My father.

I also know this is something most of Us Will deal with one day, and I’m still in shock from the news.  It’s difficult for Me to know how to feel, or describe what I feel.  It’s hard to describe the loss of something that never really felt like it was there.  The last time I saw My father was when I made My cycling trip to British Colombia, and I hadn’t seen him for at least thirteen years before that, probably considerably longer.  I wasn’t even sure if should bother, but I felt like it might be the last chance I had to see him, despite believing he would live to be over 100; he only made it to 77.

My cycling trip was roughly four years ago now, and sadly, I think I may very well have been the last member of My family to see him.  He had called My Mother this past February and had been as King of her for My phone number; My Mother Writ Me as King of My consent for it.  I Gave it, but never heard from him.

My father and I were never really close, yet he managed to teach Me some of Life’s most valuable lessons.  He taught Me to stay away from drugs as much as possible, even the pharmaceutical ones; especially the pharmaceutical ones.  Not that he didn’t believe in them either, his philosophy was,

“the less You use them, the better they Will work when You need them.” – dad.

I pestered My dad from a very early age to teach Me to play chess.  He would consistently tell Me I was too young, that chess was a complicated game.  But I pestered him anyway, and one day he resolved to teach Me a piece a day and if I could remember how each piece moved, he would teach Me to play.  I think I played three full games with him before I won for the first time – he never played Me again.

He also taught Me that People Will walk on You if You let them,

“Don’t let Your welcome Sign be a doormat” – dad

He was German, and he escaped from East Berlin to come to Canada.  So he was tough, especially with Me.  I’m the oldest, so I had to be strong.  He would continually tell Me about the responsibilities of being the eldest son.  I would have to take over and be the ‘Man of the House’ (and yes, those were actually the Words he used) if anything should ever happen to him.  He was tough because he Wished for Me to be tough, which was something I had a difficult time understanding as a child.

Anyway, this Post isn’t to be dreary or sad, this Post is to say ‘Thank You, dad’!  He really wasn’t a great father, but he was the perfect father for Me.  At least now he knows there’s a God.  Part of him probably Wishes to resent Me for being right about that, but the Bliss of the place he is now would not allow for that.  I love You, dad.

Do not rest in Peace, re Invent Your Self.

Love and Blessings,

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