Today is my Dad's birthday. He would be 56 if he was still alive. He passed away the year after I had Amelia, right around his birthday. Can it really be three years that he's been gone? Every time there is a milestone, a birthday, a Christmas, buying our first house, I miss him. And I'm afraid I'll forget him. My sister got everything of his when he died,so all I have is a few pictures of his.
The other day I was reading a post written by my friend Steph, and she talked about some of her childhood memories of her Mom. I am nowhere near the storyteller she is, but I thought I'd share some of my good memories of my Dad. There are some not so good memories as well, but today is about good things.
My dad was an amazing writer. Some of his poetry was really well written. The subject matter was often full of angst, stories about drug use, wars and his relationship with my mom. But he had a way with words. I wish now that I had more of his writing put away somewhere. I hope my mom still has it all.
Besides having a way with words, he was an excellent guitar player. He taught himself over the years, and could play anything, at least that's how it seemed to me as a child. When I was around 10 or so, my dad and his girlfriend moved into a trailer on the Oregon coast. The lived in the little town of Otis in this rural trailer park. It was in the hills and it was nice. At first they didn't have electricity because they couldn't afford to get the power pole put up for the trailer.( I think it was permits or something they lacked.) So they had kerosene lamps all over the trailer, and a wood stove, and an extension cord run to the neighbors to run the TV and stuff like alarm clocks. They lived that way for months. Every time I smell a wood stove I remember those times. In the evenings Dad and Gail would play guitars and sing songs. He could hear a song and play it back for me.
Another great memory I have is camping. As a teenager, we would go camping every summer. We'd camp at Spruce Run outside Seaside, OR. We usually got rained on. My sister and I would play in the mud swim in the river and sit around the camp fire. There was a huge group that would go, and we'd always have a great time. I truly enjoyed those times with my Dad. Now I wish I'd taken more pictures and appreciated it all more. I'm finally over being Angry at my Dad for leaving us. Now I just miss him.