Sunday, June 20, 2010

A Note to Charlie


Lotta water under the bridge since the funeral. I was only 13, and it was a huge punch in the gut. But time passed, and I cobbled a life together with the usual mix of good and bad. I am now about the age you were when you left us, and I can’t say I don’t have any regrets. I’m like everyone else Charlie, I have lots of them. But I have arrived at a place where I am beginning to understand them, and they don’t burden me as much as they used to.

So this is a thank you note. When I reach back 40-odd years, I find a man who loved his wife and kids unconditionally and took great joy in them, even when they weren’t so loveable. I remember a guy who worked his ass off to provide for his family, then volunteered his free time to help people he didn’t even know. I smile at a great laugh and sparkling eyes and a fully functional sense of humor, a person whose reaction to trouble would always begin with an explosive string of expletives and end with a rueful chuckle and a deep appreciation of irony. I see a guy in a dark bar, nursing his 2 beer limit and telling stories and surrounded by other men who respected him and valued his friendship. I remember bear hugs that lifted me into the air and left no doubt about how deeply and profoundly I was cared for.

So you were the model I had for what a man is; my guide for what to become. I’m sure there was a lot more to learn, and I know you weren’t a saint, but while I might have asked for more, I simply could not have asked for better. We are very different men Charlie, but in ways large and small, you remain the standard I hold myself to.

Muddy Waters threw his head back, closed his eyes, and shouted “I’m a MAN!” a deep roaring howl into the night. I sometimes feel that howl way down, a declaration that I am here vital and alive, shoving death and darkness in the chest. I owe you Charlie. I will see to it that your great-grandkids know who you were.

A short life can still be a great big life, a life that rings loud for years and decades and even centuries, a deep roaring howl into the night.

Happy Fathers Day.

3 comments:

  1. Good stuff as always, JB. It was great to catch up a bit last month - perhaps we'll be able to grab some stream time again one of these days. Thanks for continuing to write. Joe

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  2. Hey Joe, It's Kent, Karyn's brother-in-law, Beautiful writing and a moving tribute to your father. I love, "...shoving death and darkness in the chest."

    Hope to see you again.
    Take care,
    Kent

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  3. Thanks Kent! More people should have known Charlie...He was a hoot!

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