It's strange, sometimes, things that trigger memories.
Reading a favorite, today, and he expounded beautifully (he always does, even on public service announcements..... yes sir, you know who you are) on the fact that it's never too late to tell someone you love them, or even care.
Well, it's not. Go. Right now. Remind your loved one. Even a little thing will count. Then come back and read.
I almost missed that chance, once.
It's one of those "if only...." situations. If only I had called 24 hours earlier.....
*sighs softly*
I made a pact with myself when I found out my dad was sick.
No regrets.
I blew off a good many things in order to spend time with my dad those last few years. There are probably more things that I should have...... would have.... and could have, but in the overall summary of it I made a point to create memories I'd enjoy looking back on.
My dad and I had this running joke. My mother isn't the tallest person in the world, and sometimes you can lose her in stores. In his wheelchair, my dad went from 6'1 to 4'9.... and so the running joke was about losing him in stores now. So I told him I'd buy him one of those go-kart/bike flags.... y'know, the obnoxiously bright orange ones on the end of long fiberglass poles? That way we wouldn't lose him anymore....
I had meant to give it to him for his birthday in July, but couldn't find one (yes, I didn't get around to it, either, only halfhearted looking) until September.
My suitemate and her boyfriend had taken me out that day, and actually hadn't meant to. They were making a Toy-R-Us run for some toy or another, and I tagged along in interest of flaking off and avoiding homework..... it was Friday, a niiiiiiice fall afternoon, Lee Press-On and the Nails' swingin' tunes pumping through the car's system..... toy shopping sounded good. On a whim we saw this bike shop, and stopped in, lo and behold the flags were there in the brightest fucking orange I have seen.
I was prouder than shit when I got back to the dorm, I knew my dad would love it given the sheer ostentation of the flag. Our other suitemate (and my best friend) was starting the weekend a little early and invited me to join....... I had spoken to my dad on Monday, we called each other every couple of days, emailed with an even shorter turnaround, so I figured I'd just drive home on Saturday and present the flag as sort've a surprise..... grab a few Harley stickers, some flames, maybe something drastic for the back of his wheelchair...... all in the name of carrying on the joke (my dad was NOT a bike man *chuckle* but we always made the joke of painting flames on his wheelchair, and somewhere in the last years he let up his disapproval of bikes and bikers enough to even go to the Harley store in town).
*insert several minute pause..... here.....*
We got the call at 9 that night. C's mom had to call, for C, to pass the message on, because my mom couldn't outright tell me...... and I know it was better this way, too, as I probably would have completely lost it hearing it over a phone instead of from another person. I was drunk as hell and had been smoking some GOOD shit for the past few hours, higher than a kite...... about all I got out of the explanation was ".... your dad died."
Talk about a way to sober up real fast.
It's odd, really, the circumstances surrounding my dad's death..... everything went so........ perfectly. From what my mom told me about the night, he went peacefully, he was ready to let go. But man...... a difference of 24 hours. If I had called that afternoon to say I was heading home for the weekend (though I probably would have gotten a lecture from my dad about leaving campus for frivalent reasons *chuckle*) just to speak to him one last time, even if I didn't know it..... if he had held on another 24 hours...... hell, for all I know he knew..... somehow.... I had finally gotten that damned flag and decided the moment. Knowing my dad *laughs* I wouldn't doubt it if someone told me.
In the casket (which we just so happened to have found at the first place we went, for a perfect price, that suited my dad to a T, as well as the urn for his ashes, yet another facet that went almost too smoothly) there was a compartment in the lid.....
You betcha.
I put the top 12" of that flag in there before cremation.
No regrets.
*hugs tight* [~ds]