Dear Dad,
I just watched the first episode of Designated Survivor, Season 3.
I think you would have liked it. I wish you were here to watch it with me.
I miss you and love you.
One Year Later
We lost Dad a year ago today.
This morning I went to the 7:00 am Mass at our church, along with one of my aunts, one of my nieces, and my sisters. His name was mentioned along with the offerings.
Afterwards I had to go get a measles shot.
I was thinking of going to the movies this morning/afternoon but as I browsed the Cinemark site for tickets, I decided to just go on Mother’s Day, as I usually do.
After my shot I spent some time at Barnes & Noble, before heading out to visit my parents at the cemetery.
I was going to get lunch at a Fil Am restaurant, but I drove by I saw a long line outside, so I went home and ordered a bacon cheeseburger pizza and fries.
I fired up Vudu and browsed some movies, still not sure what I want to watch, if anything. I guess I’m not in much of a movie mood today.
That’s me and Dad at the last Giants game that he attended, back in 2015.
Miss you and love you, Dad. Sorry for the above picture where you’re eating a chicken sandwich.
Ramblings
I finally watched Crazy Rich Asians. Good movie.
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Clean up continues around the house. More trips to Goodwill are planned in the future.
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The 1967 San Francisco Giants replay is finally finished. I’m moving on to the 1939 New York Giants replay and continuing the 1917 MLB replay.
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February is right around the corner, meaning my birthday is coming up. This year it falls on a Saturday, and will be our monthly Games Night.
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TNT has started showing Rogue One almost every other day.
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I’ve been feeling crappy over the last few days, so much so that I’ve skipped my daily elliptical for a couple of days.
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I forgot to get a haircut this past weekend.
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I really do fear commitment.
Photos from Negatives
AM/FM
Stretch
I have no memories of ever seeing Willie Mays playing for the San Francisco Giants.
In those early years of going to the ballpark for Sunday doubleheaders and Bat Day, my focus was more on whatever food Mom and Dad bought for us.
Later on, when I was maybe 10 or 11 years old, I began to pay attention more to the games, especially on TV when the Giants were lucky enough to be on in the days before cable TV. Not all games were televised.
And I do remember seeing Willie McCovey.
Even on TV, you could see how big this guy was, the way he towered over the umpire and catcher at the plate.
I remember learning about his 500th home run while we were in the Philippines in 1978.
In 1980, the Giants had a ‘good student’ program that allowed students with good grades to pick pairs tickets to maybe three home games. I got to pick that year, and I chose July 3rd as one of my games.
Later that year, Willie McCovey announced his retirement, with his last home game as… July 3rd.
I thought it was pretty cool that I happened to have tickets to that game.
I asked my Grandpa to go to the game with me.
Grandpa loved sports, especially Giants baseball and 49ers football. During either season, up until he passed away, you could find him holding a small pocket transistor radio, tuned in to whichever radio station was broadcasting the game. If the game was on TV, he’d be parked in his chair at his house or even ours. And if things were getting exciting, his foot would begin to stretch out as his leg moved.
Anyways, I can’t recall who dropped us off at the game, but I remember that I was carrying a bag of cheese-filled Pillsbury biscuits that I had made for the game. Grandpa did eat a couple.
The seats were in the upper deck, and I was a little mad at myself that I had dragged Grandpa to the game where he had to climb up the rows to our seats. But I don’t think he complained about it.
The rest of the day is lost to memory. I had to look up the details of the game, including who they were playing (the Reds), who pitched (Bob Knepper) and who won the game (Giants, 4-3, Greg Minton got the save).
I didn’t think it was such a big deal about bringing Grandpa, until I recently told the story to my cousin Rich, and he was impressed that a 13-year old kid would think of taking his Grandpa to such a special game.
At that point in time, Grandpa was the only one in the family that had gone to a Giants World Series game, in 1962. I’m not sure which game he went to, so I’m not sure if he saw McCovey line out to Bobby Richardson to end the series.
I just figured that Grandpa should see McCovey’s last home game, since he’d seen him throughout most, if not all, of his career.
I recall hearing the interview with McCovey when he announced his retirement on KNBR, and he said “It’s not a sad day.”
But today is.
Rest in peace, Stretch. Thanks for everything you’ve done.
81
Cleaning Up
My Dad rarely, if ever, asked for help with anything around the house. I usually ended up helping him bring groceries up the stairs, or laundry, or bringing down garbage and recyclables from the kitchen or bathrooms.
Sometimes he’d make it halfway up the stairs with a sack of rice before I knew what he was doing. I’d bring it up the rest of the way.
When he moved back home in 2016, the basement and garage was filled with the moving boxes from his place up in Washington state. I kept asking if we could reorganize or clear a lot of the boxes so one or both of us could park inside the garage. He kept insisting that he’d get to it, eventually, and while he did empty a few boxes and dumped stuff, the garage was never cleared.
So I did that this weekend, dumping and rearranging the boxes so I could park my car back inside the garage.
The best part?
The boxes are situated so I can go through a few every weekend, and do more dumping. They were not so arranged before my reshuffle. I just need to back my car out and have plenty of room to sort through the rest of the boxes.
And then I can start on the basement. Again.
POI
A couple of years ago I introduced Dad to Person of Interest. He liked it right away. We would watch a couple of episodes every few weeks or so, maybe every two months.
We got to the introduction of Shaw in season 2 before Dad passed away. I wish he could have seen the rest of season 2, when the finale actually took place in Hanford, Washington’s nuclear plant, where he worked while he and Mom lived up there.
Today I got to Season 3, episode 9, where I experienced the biggest TV shock since Marie Warner shot her fiancée on 24.
And I cried. Mostly for what happened in the story, but also a good cathartic cry for my Dad.
That cry seemed to clear my head and shook me out of a funk I’d been feeling for a couple of weeks now.
And I came to a decision about something.
I’m not going to move to Sacramento.
There’s a position open in our agency’s office up there. I was supposed to go up there these past couple of days to check it out, but a sore back stopped me from going Wednesday, and Thursday I didn’t feel well in the morning.
Maybe this was a sign.
I figured stress was responsible for both days, and once I sat down and made the conscious decision to no longer consider the Sacramento move scenario, I felt a great weight lifted from me.
I have enough to deal with around this house, disposing of so much of Dad’s and my own stuff, I don’t feel that the added stress of moving was needed.
I felt that I needed to move out of this house ASAP, partly because of the constant reminder of where I found Dad on the steps, every time I walk by them. But over the past couple of weeks that feeling has lessened. I’ll always have that painful memory, and the time will come when I will move out of here, but that time is not now.
For the moment, I feel less stressed than I’ve been in a couple of months.
I still need to go see a therapist to cope with grieving, but I think I made some headway on my own.
Father’s Day
This is the first one without my Dad.
A few years ago on Mother’s Day, I began a tradition of going to see a movie by myself, usually the latest Marvel movie or other blockbuster that was out at the time.
This year Dad passed away right before Mother’s Day, so we were all a little preoccupied. I didn’t get to see a movie that day.
This year I’m going to see a double feature to make up for that, and continue to see a movie on both Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, going forward.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I miss you.