« To the past
Page 1 of 305
Dec 11, 2009
the two things that have occupied my mind the past week
are the two men that should be in my life but aren’t.
one will never be again, no matter what i do, and the other one is so evasive and untrusting; and i don’t know how i’m going to catch him again.
i should sleep.
Dec 10, 2009
wtf, will?
- onidracula: maybe Bedtyme Stories will give me a call and I can get you a vibrator at 50% off
- crashedinstyle: what is your obsession with getting me a vibrator
Dec 10, 2009
dad is in the bottom row, second from the left.
if there’s one thing you could say about him for sure, he was proud of his work. both in being a pharmacist (although he always told me when he took me to a carolina game that from where we were standing on the sidewalk was the closest he ever wanted me to get from the pharmacy building), and in being in the navy.
he told me about going to hong kong once. he went all the way around the world on an aircraft carrier. they stopped in hong kong for the night, and he went to dinner at a small restaurant and fumbled with the chopsticks until he finally decided to spear his food on one, and then they just sort of walked up to him and handed him a fork.
i’m rambling now.
I love this.
why?
Dec 10, 2009
and this is the picture we used for the obituary. i’m in the full size, but mom cropped it down and this is just the one we saved onto the computer.
he was so happy to do this portrait. it was me and him only, and it was a gift for my mom. i must have been about seven, and i still remember going to go take it.
none of you care.
Dec 10, 2009
dad is in the bottom row, second from the left.
if there’s one thing you could say about him for sure, he was proud of his work. both in being a pharmacist (although he always told me when he took me to a carolina game that from where we were standing on the sidewalk was the closest he ever wanted me to get from the pharmacy building), and in being in the navy.
he told me about going to hong kong once. he went all the way around the world on an aircraft carrier. they stopped in hong kong for the night, and he went to dinner at a small restaurant and fumbled with the chopsticks until he finally decided to spear his food on one, and then they just sort of walked up to him and handed him a fork.
i’m rambling now.
Dec 10, 2009
birthday? i guess. i don’t know. i’ll have to email john and ask.
Dec 10, 2009
my dad’s friend john sent these pictures to me. the one in the back is my dad, the one in the front with the schizoid haircut is john.
he was a handsome man when he was younger.
Dec 10, 2009
my cousin wilson was born with down’s syndrome. he quickly became one of the favorites of the family and my grandfather was especially fond of him. wilson would always totter in to the house with the biggest smile on his face, happy to see “gran-pete,” as he called him. “where’s pete?” we’d ask, and wilson would smile just about as big as you possibly could and point towards grandpa, and then run with uncertain steps over to his chair where he’d be greeted with a hug and a grin almost as wide as his own.
grandpa died my freshman year, march 24th. it was hard for all of us but i remember thinking just before we arrived at my grandparents the night we heard of his death, just thinking about how wilson might act with gran-pete gone. it made me cry. we were sitting at dinner, i was picking apart a roll, and i was just musing about how wilson might react, and the idea of him losing grandpa hurt more than anything. it was less than an hour later that we learned we’d already lost him, earlier that day.
and for a while, wilson would ask, upon coming to the farm, “where’s gran-pete?” with that silly smile on his face, and for a while we had to tell him, no wilson, gran-pete isn’t here right now. it’ll be a while before you see him next. and he just smiled and smiled and said ok, and hugged his mommy and made his rounds hugging everyone else and playing with everyone else and being as happy as he always was.
my dad always loved wilson, too, and when grandpa died he sort of took his place. my dad was always the pessimist, always a little unhappy with his lot, but seeing wilson was a rarity that made him very happy. he called him his little buddy, and wilson would totter over to him just the same. “where’s charlie?” and wilson would smile just about as big as you possibly could and point towards dad, and then run with uncertain steps over to a wheelchair where he’d be greeted with a hug and a grin almost as wide as his own.
charlie’s gone now.
and i don’t want to have to tell wilson, no, charlie isn’t here right now. it’ll be a while before you see him next. because while he’ll just smile and say ok and hug his mommy and be happy as always, and that’s fine and admirable, the fact remains that i miss charlie too, and i can’t cope with it half as gracefully.
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About
hi, i'm helen and i'm seventeen years young. uhm, i'm in college. i like things like kurt vonnegut, scheming evilly, not paying attention in class, and having loud conversations about sex so as to impress everyone with my knowledge and experience.
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