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April 9, 1997
...burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night... -- from Howl -- Allen Ginsberg
The months and days are the travelers of eternity. The years that come and go are also voyagers... I too for years past have been stirred by the sight of a solitary cloud drifting with the wind to ceaseless thoughts of roaming. -- Matsuo Basho
Today is the 8th anniversary of my Dad's death. It's still weird not having him in the world since he was a significant presence to so many people.
The night before my Dad died I was having a birthday party at my house (yesterday was my birthday in case you couldn't figure out what that "46" thing was about). My Mom was standing in the kitchen talking to Rita and Charlie. It was Rita and Charlie's second date. My Mom suddenly fell for no reason and broke her shoulder. Her hand/arm swelled up so much they had to cut her wedding ring off at the hospital. She had never had it off her hand the entire time she was married to my Dad. The next morning I drove over to her house to bring her a piece of the birthday cake and see how the shoulder was. When I got there, the hospital called to say he was dead.
Rita and Charlie went on to get married. Charlie asks about my Mom every time he sees me. Still.