“Glad You Got to See Me”


Tomorrow marks one month of the world no longer housing my Dad. He was always bigger than life, and a month ago the bastard proved it and up and left. We were/are shocked and broken. All the clichés come rushing to your side when death happens. You find yourself saying things like, “I can’t believe it”, or “It doesn’t seem real” or in this case, a cliché feeling, it feels like time has stopped for me and my family but the rest of the world continues to spin and roll as she does.

I have reflected more and more on my dad’s life and on all the stories he told me and others. I have thought about how terrible he felt the past couple of months before his death but how he never did anything less than greet people with a smile and joke around. Before he’d leave a place, quite often he would say to me or who ever, ” Well, glad you got to see me.” It was the best one upper ever. I mean, what do you say in response? It’s a trump statement. I always chuckled and it caught most people off guard at first and then they too would laugh.

I hadn’t thought about him saying this until this morning, it’s amazing that some of the most ordinary or common place things that were my dad have stayed hidden in my mind. Things he said or did all the time are just now being remembered. I don’t know why this is. It bothers me a bit and makes me feel like I’m forgetting and I so badly don’t want to forget a thing. Perhaps, they are being time released for a reason. But the statement, “Glad you got to see me”, is both comforting and painful. It is painful because now it is such a final statement. It is, however, of comfort because I can hear him saying it and I can see his face smiling and if he would have had final words to share with us, I think perhaps these might have been among them. Glad you got to see me.

I am truly glad I ‘got to see him’. It is impossible to put in one or even a thousand blogs what he meant in my life or in others. He left me little crumbs of happiness though, with all the little quotes that he would say over and over again and with the scent of patchouli that never came out of your shirt after hugging him. Anytime I hear the jingling of Keys I will think of him. Anytime I hear  Bob Segar, Bob Dilan, Willie Nelson, Joe Cocker, CCR. The Supremes, soul music of any kind or anything with a good beat, I will always think of him. Anytime I watch a documentary, I will think of him.  And finally, anytime I see a one legged man, I will think of him. He left me and my family many touch stones to remember him by and each time I come across one I imagine him saying “Glad you got to see me sis.”

I’m glad I got to see you too, dad.



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