My mother died last year. No sympathy, please - that’s not why I’m telling you that. Hang in here with me for a bit. I’m trying to go somewhere with this.
A few years back my Dad (who was a great friend of mine - we used to work on cars, drink beer and play pool together - oh yeah!) - anyway, my Dad got out of the shower, had a huge heart attack and died. The good news is he never knew what hit him.
My mom really wasn’t ever the same after that. She was a person who just didn’t know how to be alone. She never had been really, and I don’t think she wanted to start learning how. As she gave up, her health began to decline, and the more it did that, the faster it did that. She finally developed something terminal and that was all she wrote. I had to sell my childhood home to help pay for her care (insurance just didn’t cover all the care she required in those last months).
My dog is buried in the backyard at that house, and the bastards who bought the house tore down Daddy’s garage (that’s okay, Daddy’ll haunt ‘em! Booooeeewaaaah!) I did all my growing up in that house, theoretically speaking. Although, there are many who will debate whether I have done any “growing up”. Ever. Anywhere.
Saying goodbye, and letting go of people you love, and of a place as grounding as my childhood home, was an abrupt and difficult experience. I’ve always been a bit of a free spirit, but I think my love for going my own way came in part from always knowing there was somewhere to which, and someone to whom I could go back - at any time. Now, that’s not the case. Dad isn’t there. Mom isn’t there. "There" isn’t even there anymore.
It puts a whole new complexion on that “free spirit” thing, doesn’t it? “Untethered” is how I describe the feeling. Being untethered can either feel really free and good, or really scary and adrift - and most of the time I think it feels like both simultaneously (maybe that’s kind of what walking in space is like - free, exhilarating and beautiful, but geez, if you’re “too” free how do you get back down there where all the oxygen is?).
The road is calling me again now - actually more like the friendly skies than the road, and more like shouting, not calling. Alas, I have a day job (grrrrrrrr) - and I need the damn day job to fund the writing dream. The writing dream is everything. Nothing stands in the way of that. So, the day job must stay for now. I do get a paid vacation every year, and this year (for the first time in 2 years - because Mom got sick) - this year I’m taking TWO WEEKS OFF! In August, I’m going to the City by the Bay. San Fran. The City of the Golden Gate.
I have my airline tickets. I have my hotel reservations. I will have a car. I will be doing some exploring. I will be having me some fun! Or, as my awesome and wonderful Daddy would have said to me, “Go blow the roof off the dump, kiddo.”
You got it, Dad. Oh, and Dad, I’m gonna see me some great auto racing while I’m there. Zoom, zoom, baby!!
Polla Filia,
J.F.
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