10-16-2019, 11:26 PM
Just spent the last two hours texting and commiserating with Syl. She's a wreck, barely holding on, but fortunately she has access to sleeping aids (the perks of being a PA), neighbors that are bringing food, and family helping out. She showed me the selection of ash keepsakes offered by the crematorium. For a moment, I thought a cheesey cross or heart (which is like most of the offerings) would be funny because it would piss Dan off. "Sorry no skulls" she texted when sending several snaps of catalog pages. She also said the true skull is in AK, and Syl plans to ship it back to me when things settle. How morbid, in the literal sense of that word.
We promised to have a long chat about Dan when this all settles. He was a complicated man, more so than most who weren't intimate with him might realize, haunted by so many demons. And yet, we came to a lot of crossroads in our adventures together, forks between the light and the dark. He always chose the light around me, even when I was leaning more towards darkness. I remain inspired by his good heart, despite all the demons that tormented him as long as I knew him.
Ruth said Amber is heading up for the AK memorial. They had connected more profoundly after her son was born. Bryan is more standoffish, but Ruth said it's the first time she's really seen him cry. Dan had encouraged him to pursue RM and JM, and I was really looking forward to taking him under wing, but it never happened and now, probably never will.
The CA memorial squad is starting to move forward a little, but not much, after I did some prodding. My momentum is dropping however. Tomorrow I've got to switch gears to Florida - I fly out first thing Friday morn. I promised to help proofread some memorial pamphlet text tomorrow too.
I didn't cry this much for my dad, but my dad was expected for over a decade and Dan was a total shock. Now at my mom's home, in my old room where so much of my crap is stored, I see weird echoes of him in dusty corners. I can't find my Dan sticks - I got so many sticks. Those are buried here somewhere under swords, nunchucks, tonfas, batons, blades and a ridiculous amount of knives. I found some goofy skull toys, things he definitely gave me because who else would? I really need to clean this room.
I really need to sleep. That's what I need. Last night, I drank a fair share of my dad's whiskey, not his JD of which there's only a little remaining, but a bottle of Old Smuggler he had. It's terrible, as bland as whiskey could be, but you can drink a lot of it. Tonight I'm foregoing that because I want to hit Kung Fu tomorrow night and work off some anger so I don't want to get any more dehydrated than I already am from so damn much crying.
We promised to have a long chat about Dan when this all settles. He was a complicated man, more so than most who weren't intimate with him might realize, haunted by so many demons. And yet, we came to a lot of crossroads in our adventures together, forks between the light and the dark. He always chose the light around me, even when I was leaning more towards darkness. I remain inspired by his good heart, despite all the demons that tormented him as long as I knew him.
Ruth said Amber is heading up for the AK memorial. They had connected more profoundly after her son was born. Bryan is more standoffish, but Ruth said it's the first time she's really seen him cry. Dan had encouraged him to pursue RM and JM, and I was really looking forward to taking him under wing, but it never happened and now, probably never will.
The CA memorial squad is starting to move forward a little, but not much, after I did some prodding. My momentum is dropping however. Tomorrow I've got to switch gears to Florida - I fly out first thing Friday morn. I promised to help proofread some memorial pamphlet text tomorrow too.
I didn't cry this much for my dad, but my dad was expected for over a decade and Dan was a total shock. Now at my mom's home, in my old room where so much of my crap is stored, I see weird echoes of him in dusty corners. I can't find my Dan sticks - I got so many sticks. Those are buried here somewhere under swords, nunchucks, tonfas, batons, blades and a ridiculous amount of knives. I found some goofy skull toys, things he definitely gave me because who else would? I really need to clean this room.
I really need to sleep. That's what I need. Last night, I drank a fair share of my dad's whiskey, not his JD of which there's only a little remaining, but a bottle of Old Smuggler he had. It's terrible, as bland as whiskey could be, but you can drink a lot of it. Tonight I'm foregoing that because I want to hit Kung Fu tomorrow night and work off some anger so I don't want to get any more dehydrated than I already am from so damn much crying.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse