10 Years Ago.

My dad and Me. I was almost 1. I just noticed he is holding me up with his teeth. 

10 years ago today I lost my dad. He was only 49 I was 2 months away from my 21st birthday. I lived with my dad my up until his death. My parents divorced when I was 8 or 9 I really don't remember, I have tried to forget a lot of my childhood. I do however remember some things. We didn't have a lot and quite frankly that was fine. I had a TV in my room which if you know me at all that is all I needed. Hell in my teen years I had 2 TV and 2 VCR's, I was usually the person that my dad or someone would call if they need an electronic item to work. \

We lived in a 2 story house that was owed by my grandpa. I lived upstairs, my dad's bedroom was also upstairs but he always slept on the couch downstairs, that's where the video games where. We had a redneck setup. We had one of those old swivel TV's that did not work but it worked just fine for putting a TV on top of it. Then next to it we had another TV that had the video games hooked up to it.  It took me a long time when I lived on my own to get used to not having 2 TV's on at once. Anyway that was total normal for us. Although we very rarely agreed on TV shows or Games. He was more Magnum PI I was Homicide. He was Baseball games I was Mario.  We did agree on somethings Drew Carey Show, Law & Order, That '70 Show. There are many nights now watching something or playing a game that I think about him whether he would like or hate it.

My brother, me, dad. He is wearing a bitching Red Baron jacket. 

We were close but at the same time we were very far apart. We usually we both always home but neither one would know that unless I had to come downstairs. I would get home from school at the same time he would get off work. I didn't have friends so I never went anywhere. We would do puzzles but never together, he would go to bed then I would continue it and the same with me. If I could go back and spend more time with him of course I would. Hindsight of course is 20/20.  I would play softball in the summer and he stay home. At the time I loved it, I had seen him at sporting events before he was not a quite fan. I hated having that attention when playing a game. If I knew he was going to be there I would be uncomfortable, there were a couple of times I caught him there without me knowing. He never said anything and I never said anything.

He had been sick for a long time. It started on his shoulder it was like a birthmark that he had always had but it started to ooze at times. I told him forever he should go to the doctor and so did everyone else. At this point I had a job so he was constantly home alone.  He was home so much that my grandpa actually told him to get a cat. Rocky is still alive and very independent, not quite sure if he picked that up from my dad or me. When he finally did go to the doctor they informed him it was Melanoma which is a form of skin cancer. They told him 6 months. He told me as I was making a sandwich, I was like someone punched me in the stomach. That was one of the fews times we both cried and told each other I Love You.  I believe he told my brother when he ran into at the Street Fair, not sure who got the better end of that conversation. He went through Cemo, his 4th ex-wife drove him to and from Indy for his appointments or anything like that that needed to be done. When I would go to work my grandparents would come over and stay with him. We eventually got Hospice as well.  He made me promise that no matter what I would never make him go to the hospital. I broke that promise. I was suppose to work that Saturday and Sunday I woke up on Saturday and something felt wrong. So I stayed home he wasn't doing to good but not really that bad either.  Sunday was a different story he wasn't doing good at all. I called ex-wife number 4 and she came over, then I called grandma and grandpa, Hospice I believe was there as well. We decided to call an ambulance. We all went our separate ways up there. After a while I went back home. I don't like hospitals and I didn't really think this was going to end well. I wasn't home very much and my brother's wife comes and tells me I should go back up there. They don't think he is going to make it the night. I go, at this point he wasn't talking or opening his eyes. Not long after I got back up there year looked at me and called me the nickname that he always called me. Not much longer after that I noticed he stop breathing, most of the family was talking about how it was a good sign he talked. I looked at my uncle and said his chest isn't moving and he agreed. The rest of that night is kinda a blur. 10 years later I still feel guilt about making him go to the hospital.

Dad for Halloween at Gerber's grocery store. The red shirt was part of his regular everyday wear.

I think about all the time we did spend together. I remember his mustache, aviator sunglasses and hawaiian shirts. Yes he did in fact want to be Magnum PI.  We rarely fought but neither one of us are wired that way. We would watch sports together he was a Detroit Tigers fan, I am a Yankees fan. We used to go to garage sales together. I would always end up with a bunch of wrestling figures no matter if I went or not. We would go to movies together I like any kid did not want to sit with there dad so I would sit a couple rows away rows from him. But no matter what he was my dad and I miss him every single day. I wonder if he would be proud of me. I'm not even proud of me. But he would be, I am almost sure of it.  Sorry for rambling on. Before I started writing I had all these stories I wanted to tell, then I forgot them all. It is something I very rarely talk about.

Dad, Uncle Tom, Brother Brett, Granpa Homer, Grandma Ginger, Me.