father's day

yesterday was fathers day. i was pretty grumpy for the most part of the day, to be honest. the last time i saw my dad was fathers day two years ago when he came to visit me (unexpectedly) in york. when he was there we didn't have those stellar conversations that we always had. we barbecued. he drank two budweisers in two days and that was probably less than i had seen him drink in years. there was a disconnect and i knew it then. and i knew why too. but i thought it only in passing.

i guess i don't really want to talk about all the stuff that has happened since then. i don't want to think about that part of my dad, just for a little while. though it is difficult to separate the man from the action in this circumstance. while i can though, here are some things i hope i never forget (i am lucky to have such recollections):

his hands. dad had sun spots on his hands, more so with age. his fingernails were flat but had ridges. his fingers were stubby. there was a half-moon scar on his left hand from when he thought it appropriate to play with fireworks. i can remember his hands on my shoulders. he always did that when he wanted a hug.

my dad was tough. a "tough guy". now you know where i get it from. mike anderson once told me a story about the cobblestone in syracuse on a weekend. he said that some guy had been talking crap to them all night and that he dared to get up in mike's face (as a reminder: mike anderson is h u g e ). mike told me that before he could get a hold on the argument my dad had jumped onto the pool table and took a running dive at this man. all parties were consequently kicked out of the bar. but dad won. so maybe he wasn't a very big man, to say the least, but he had heart.

dad used to call me "baby" all the time. perhaps he had seen dirty dancing too many times, which could actually be true. it used to drive me nuts when i was in high school. hell, it made me angry right through college. i remember dad coming to visit my apartment in buffalo when i lived with adam. he showed up at the door, handed adam his luggage, put his hands on my shoulders and said, "i love you baby". i can't even imagine now why such things used to offend me so easily.

you definitely knew where you stood with dad. if he liked you, he'd walk to the end of the earth for you. if not, oh man. one word: headlock. many, many a boyfriend i lost to this strategy of his: new boyfriend does something stupid (dad has been waiting for this moment) dad rushes at boyfriend and puts him in a headlock, new boyfriend's face turns red. i never stopped him. maybe it's because i never really liked any of those ones (good call, dad). if he was mad at you, you knew it. but that was never as bad as when he was disappointed, then he would just cry. oh man, he got me good a couple of times with that. that always made me want to be dead. but mostly he just called me "kristi" or "baby" and told me he loved me. that's where i stood with him (most of the time).

the last time i saw my dad was father's day weekend two years ago. we went to lunch at omega on my lunch break from the office. i had the honey dijon salad with chicken. we talked about his plans for the rest of the weekend. he dropped me off at work and as i walked into work i turned around and saw him wipe his eyes just before getting into the car. he pulled out of the driveway and honked twice.

and that's all i am going to say. none of those bad things. none of them.