.

THINKING ABOUT DAYS GONE BY - WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A COFFEE WITH ED

Last year was a blur. With my father getting sick suddenly, and passing away in January 2010, and about a dozen other situations going on in our lives, I made a promise to Ed, my mother Merle, and God. That when all the mourning and organizational (estate) stuff was resolved, I’d have a good and proper time to settle with the new reality. Our family is stalwart and flush with honesty, and we never kid ourselves about anything. As I am repelled by fiction, it’s the way I live. It’s the reason that every time I try to write a short story, or begin a full fledge novel, I quit before it ever sees the light of day. This winter I did a couple that survived to print but I wasn’t happy with the content none the less.

This morning, all of a sudden, I felt like we should be going to Ed’s for coffee, as we did at least twice a week for years. Especially when my mother had to be placed in a nursing home. Ed was pretty tough guy, and didn’t let on he was lonesome, but it was obvious to me then, we should have been spending more time together. He was an old salt, from the former North Atlantic Squadron, and he was fiercely independent. I was a baby boomer with big ideas and a university education.....and he thought I was too big for my britches. He loved our dog, Bosko, and the dog love him dearly. Ed enjoyed setting out the biscuits for Bosko’s arrival. As soon as we let him off the leash, Bosko flew through the Bass Rock Apartment complex, like a lightning flash. He put on quite a performance for Ed. It was important for him....for both of them.....and of course for me.

It’s funny now. I’ve spent a lot of time writing and pondering our relationship, over fifty odd years. We seldom agreed and vehemently disagreed with a lot of stuff.....like the economy and politics. He had been a hit and miss father when I was a kid, and it was always obvious to me he preferred a drink at the tavern with his associates, than playing ball with his needy kid. Kids should have friends their own age he’d argue. He was right. But I sure loved it when he’d come home early and strap on the ball glove for a game of catch.

I don’t get misty eyed any more, and I think Bosko has forgotten grandpa now. I’ve thought about this a lot. If I took Bosko up to the apartment just to see if he’d even wag his tail. On the night that Ed died, to the second, Bosko put his head on Suzanne’s knee and wagged his tail furiously, as if telling her he needed to go out. He didn’t. But the phone rang. Ed was gone.

This morning I’d love to have coffee with that old fart. Just to hear him argue again, would be so pleasant, rekindling our time together in this crazy mortal coil.

I apologize for this digression. I just miss my dad!