In My Write Mind
I know. I miss him. And every time I see you, I think about him.
You were always there. Solitary, yet so accommodating. You never asked for much. I respected your strength, your presence. I still do. The way you still stand bravely in the face of the elements after all these years. Never wavering. I look in your face and see stability. You're like a rock.
You were around since before I was born. That gives you a longevity that can't really be measured. You were quiet; some might even say stoic. That was just you. Even with a "grill" as big as all outdoors, you never said much. But when you did blow off steam...everybody knew. There was no hiding it. In fact, you never tried to hide when you were hot. THAT is when you were at your best. It seemingly inspired you to do your best work. I loved that.
You and my dad had the best relationship. It was equal parts skill and science, ebb and flow, mesquite and mosquitoes. Looking back, I realize that it was a partnership, a give and take. Definitely understood each other. "Matched" one another all the way. There was many a day that you guys shined in the sunlight. Drew raves and applause. It can be argued that it was the greatest show on Earth.
I always envied that fire in your eye, that glow, that spark that he gave you...that unforced chemistry; made me want to give you the "coal" shoulder as he loaded them on. His "fluid" requests, your "incendiary" responses--I just couldn't take it. Guess you could say I had a "beef" with you. I was jealous the way a little boy who lived for his father's attention would be. He gave you his soul while seasoning filet of sole; a rare passion while prepping rare burgers; his whole heart while handling hot dogs. His time while turning over tenderloin. Can you blame me?!?!? You have to know that it was a healthy type of jealous.
Still, I will miss the way you worked together. I know you will, too.
Every time I see the way you've held yourself together, I feel that if you can do it, I can, too. Of course, it's not that simple. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you, the epitome of mortar and stones; alas, I'm merely an inferior compilation of skin and bones.
He was who made both of us go, made us feel important. For all accounts and purposes, he was who fanned our flames. Our relationships, while different, were just as lasting. Sometimes I wonder if you and I will ever have that type of repartee, that ability to make people happy, to nourish them. That ability to bring out the best in you like he did. I think about you and I combining our ample talents one bright, summer day. It can happen. Hell, I'll be positive. It WILL happen. It has to.
I look forward to that day. Especially now. This would be around the time you'd start coming around in full force. Around the time you'd make your presence felt. You may feel like that's not the case anymore. Let me let you know something. I know you're there. I see you.
And soon, we will combine and make some history of our own. It won't be the greatest show, but it will definitely be the greatest tribute...to a man that literally touched both of our lives.
And when that day comes, when we "meat" again, we will both definitely feel his presence...let's work on rekindling that fire. This summer, let's climb out of the "pit" together. You and me.
scribbled by Will at 4/12/2005 08:07:00 AM
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I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear. (Joan Didion)
The Write One
Will. Lefty. Since Summer 1971. Over the next six months, I'll be saying some hellos, some goodbyes. Living, laughing, growing. Don't.miss.a.word.
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