Prose & Cons

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  • hedonist
    hedonist Posts: 24,524
    OK...I'm a huge fan of Judge Judy and People's Court. I love those women for their common sense. They may be compassionate, but also refuse to be bullshitted. And they know the law, always applied without bias.

    Anyway, earlier I was watching Millian...it was a case of a mother being sued by her son over some wedding bullshit - seemed like a fucked up relationship all over the place. But Millian said (to paraphrase) that to see how your husband will treat you as your marriage goes on, observe how he treats his mother...that is the true indicator.

    (I'd also say look at how they treat waitstaff - I hate that word; seems sniffy, but it suffices here - I guess, how they treat others in general.)

    I am so fucking blessed to live this life with a man who (despite I'm sure gave her his share of shit growing up) ultimately treated his mother with respect, candor, kindness, humor...with himself.

    And as the lovely judge said, "Once this gorgeousness (sweeping motion around her face) is gone, he'll still be there for me".

    Much like how I feel :mrgreen:
  • rollings
    rollings unknown Posts: 7,127
    hedonist wrote:
    All Five Horizons

    (all the precious moments)

    Easiest one to begin with - touch.


    From him holding me close to the point of "jeez, dad!" - embarrassed and at those awkward ages, too quick to shrug him off. But bless him, always over-hugged with his love, pride. Extra squeezes.

    He did this from when I was a child to adult.

    As an adult, I reveled in it - finally understood the limits of longevity.

    As a child, dancing with him to the oom-pa-pah music in the German restaurant we frequented in those precious early days...my feet on his.

    He carried me, lifted me, and we twirled.

    There are few safer feelings in life, for me.

    Last hug I got from him was the best, unforgettable. Not sure if for the beautifully-stubborn strength in his weakening arms, not sure if he (or I) knew it would be the last...

    or just that it was what it was.

    Strong, beautiful, lasting.

    This is the fourth Father's Day since he died, and as I've done for the past three years, couldn't wait to begin thumbing (my way) through the photo album I put together in the days after, my favorite pictures and moments of him. Heart-on-sleeve kind of man he was...and even better, never apologetic for it. Proud of it, in fact.

    Everything is finite...the tangible, that is.

    I'm thankful memories are what they are, and not a sense. But oh how imprints on the senses remain.

    Love you, dad. Thank you.

    I missed this one before

    very beautiful
  • rollings
    rollings unknown Posts: 7,127
    hedonist wrote:
    OK...I'm a huge fan of Judge Judy and People's Court. I love those women for their common sense. They may be compassionate, but also refuse to be bullshitted. And they know the law, always applied without bias.

    Anyway, earlier I was watching Millian...it was a case of a mother being sued by her son over some wedding bullshit - seemed like a fucked up relationship all over the place. But Millian said (to paraphrase) that to see how your husband will treat you as your marriage goes on, observe how he treats his mother...that is the true indicator.

    (I'd also say look at how they treat waitstaff - I hate that word; seems sniffy, but it suffices here - I guess, how they treat others in general.)

    I am so fucking blessed to live this life with a man who (despite I'm sure gave her his share of shit growing up) ultimately treated his mother with respect, candor, kindness, humor...with himself.

    And as the lovely judge said, "Once this gorgeousness (sweeping motion around her face) is gone, he'll still be there for me".

    Much like how I feel :mrgreen:

    True Love
  • hedonist
    hedonist Posts: 24,524
    It's a good love.

    Thank you, lovely writer :)
  • hedonist
    hedonist Posts: 24,524
    I look at the clock.

    Five years ago from now, I was about three hours away from knowing my father gave the finger to hurting and pain and a blessed life, and said hello to the next realm.

    (it's funny, I never saw him flip anyone off or even heard him swear beyond "goddamn" and "bullshit"...but when it was his time, I have no doubt there was a heartfelt fuck-you to his disease)

    This morning after my shower, I had a smoke by the window and watched my city...still dark, 5:30-ish. It's part of my ritual...rest my back, think about the day, think about work, just...think.

    (and play with the cats as they seek out belly-and-ear-rubs)

    He wrote me a letter dated this date but twelve years earlier, talking about 9/11, which had happened a couple weeks prior. He always noted the time on his letters too. This one was timed 5:30am (coincidentally? the time I was born, lo these many years ago).

    It's a brief but honest letter. Angry, trying to reconcile humanity - yet again...but so full of love and candor. I'm still honored, touched, he respected me so much to be that open.

    In the half-dark, I tried to find that letter among the many cards and correspondences I've saved from the people I love. Sometimes they're a precious and comforting touchstone.

    Still, I couldn't find it. Knew it was - IS - there. So wanted to read it, to see his distinct handwriting.

    But, it's OK...it's practically memorized.

    I'm truly smiling as I write this last part, because as much as I (still, always) miss him, that is so trumped by the everlasting effects of the kind of father and human being he was.

    Here's to love and good memories :)

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