Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

I’ve been thinking of you lately. I’ll be heading down to Chicago for Xmas and will be seeing Don & Betty and no doubt you’ll be part of the conversation at some point. And with the end of 2004 just around the corner, I’ve been in a retrospective mood. I feel sad that my only memories of you from this year were your voice coming through a telephone and your ashes in a plastic bag.. I have to go back several years to find a happy memory of you. 1998, maybe. The problem is that my mind just can’t jump to particular memory like a CD player can skip to a track. Instead it fast-forwards through everything with all those memories in-between rearing their heads. One very irksome memory came to mind that I’d forgotten about. It happened shortly after Joni died. I went to visit you one weekend and, upon walking in the door, you were nowhere to be seen. I figured you were sleeping so I just grabbed something to drink and watched some TV until you awoke from your drunken stupor. After a while, you walked out of your bedroom. You were surprised to see me as you had forgotten that I’d told you I would be visiting. For my part, I was surprised that you were naked and that you refused to put on any clothes. To complete the amazing trifecta, you shit on the floor before you went back to bed. I suppose it’s only fair that I had to clean it up as you changed my diapers when I was young, right? Why it is that my mind is adamant on bringing this and like memories up from storage is beyond me. Being Christmas time, I’m trying to recall a happy Xmas memory but I can’t. Maybe something will come back to me but, for the moment, I have absolutely no memories of you from the holiday season happy or otherwise. Granted, we haven’t spent a Xmas together since 1985 but you’d think I’d be able to resurrect something from the corners of my cranium. What is wrong with me?

I don’t think I ever told you (why would I have?), but I wrote a poem about Grandpa B. Well, not really about him, more about his absence. It’s difficult to write about someone you’ve never met nor heard much about. So why exactly did you hate him so much? I know about the beatings…why was Gene able to make his peace with him while you weren’t? I’ve been thinking that I should make a trek to Iowa next year and visit Grandma B.’s grave. I don’t know exactly why. When was the last time I saw her? I think she died in 1985 and I probably saw her last in – what? – 1983? It might be a nice way to welcome in the spring – go on a little roadtrip and do some navel gazing upon a woman I barely knew. Put death in perspective and in its place to welcome the rebirth of life and all that stuff. Does that make any sense? OK. Onto other matters…

It’s a balmy 45 down in Natchitoches now. Cold for you, I know, but better than the single digits we have here. Colder than a witch’s tit in a brass brassiere! The woman I told you about in my last letter and I are no longer seeing one another. She sent me an email in which she relayed her desire to be let further into my circle of sympathies but I didn’t want her there. Quite honestly, I have no idea why she wanted to be let in. What did she want from someone whom she thought of as a childish, selfish, asshole who repeatedly told her that he didn’t want any emotional intimacy (or whatever you wanna call it) – why in the name of Jehovah did she persist? Every time I open myself up to a woman, I invariably am told how dark and ugly it is in there. It gets old quickly and it’s gotten so old that it’s become completely predictable. This woman is really smart and she figured it all out early on, which makes the whole ordeal even more perplexing.

Carl is doing OK. I’ll be heading over to his place tomorrow to watch the Vikings play the Packers. He’s currently seeking out a Vikings bar at which to watch it before we head over to mom’s. I presume he means me harm as, no doubt, a lone Packer fan wouldn’t stand a chance against a bar full of those crazy big city folks. On Saturday, we’re going to Ted’s house over in the old neighborhood and then Sue and I will go to Betty’s son’s place to meet up with her and Don. The first Xmas I can recall where I won’t be going out to Barrington. I can understand Carol not wanting to host anything with Harry gone, though. Then on Sunday my friends and I are going to play Dungeons & Dragons over at Chris’ place and wind down from the holiday. Another short work week follows and then it’s New Years. At the moment, I’m planning on spending it at a friend’s house out in the country and cooking up a bunch of soul food along with cocktailing.

Next year I become a volunteer adult literacy tutor – kinda sorta following in mom’s footsteps. I also need to do some job hunting as the position I’m at now looks to end by April. I hope to do some travel come summer, see some concerts, and the like. You know how I am – I take things as they come, for the most part. Ya know, maybe I’ll go visit grandma’s grave on the anniversary of your death. Kind of wrap all this family stuff together in one roadtrip. And isn’t Dorene buried there too? Actually, there’s a country ton of things I wanna do. Host a radio program, write a story – so many things. I’ve also decided to get more involved in politics. I’m helping a friend who’s running for a city council seat here in Madison but I’d also like to get involved with politics on the state level. I met a fellow atheist who is an active member of the Democratic Party of Wisconsin and he was quite inspirational. A lot of Christians in the country are really creeping me out, Dad. I’ve always been fascinated with Thomas Jefferson (BTW, thanks again for that 6 volume biography of him) and his conception of a Wall of Separation between church & state is sorely needed now. Part of it is to keep religion out of my life but I’m also firmly convinced that mixing the two leads to tyranny of some kind. It soils both. I mean, the Founding Fathers were well-aware of the bloodshed borne from their intermingling. I think the point of the First Amendment was to declare a Treaty of Westphalia before decades of war instead of after. I hope I find the motivation because it’s getting sadder all the time just sitting here on the sidelines watching it all happen. Anyway, 2005 should be an interesting year.

I’ll end by saying that it’s so strange to think you’ve been gone for 9 months now. Those weeks I spent in Louisiana this spring by myself stretched on forever, it seemed. My mantra was “This too shall pass” and shove a spoon up my ass sideways if it didn’t. I got home to Madison despite The Teamsters’ best efforts. And, while I think I’ve come to grips with your death for the most part, I’ve got a lot of learning to do. I figure that, if I learn about you, I’ll learn about myself. I spent some time last night looking at a picture of grandpa. Well, the only one I have. It’s the one with him and one of his 5 or 6 wives standing outside of a tent. So, he had half a dozen and you had 2, do you suppose I could handle even 1?

Alright Old Man, I’m outta here. I’ve got a lunch date with a couch & a fireplace. Until next year…

Much love,
Tim