From my Facebook during the Coke Kickoff Party for 2018…

“Just because I don’t work for Coca Cola doesn’t mean I shouldn’t expect to win an award. Every time I got up to accept an award Trina Wheeler and her bosses made me sit back down. #iwillwinanaward”

It was so funny as my drinks were starting to kick in and each times they announced something and people were looking around I would start to get up.  Trina’s bosses really started to get worried I was going to go all the way to the front.

Then I posted this picture with the comment “Costing people their jobs one Holiday party at a time.  I f-ing rule!

Here it is Tiff’s birthday. Poor thing. Why would I say that? Well, I’ve never had any biological kids of my own (that I know of…ha ha… wink wink…nudge nudge…wait trust me I would know and it’s impossible) and yet I’m still raising a school age kid and have been for decades. However, out of all the kids I’ve raised poor Tiff has been the one that people swore was my own biological daughter even going so far as to say that they could see the resemblance. The only way that could be is if you went by the old wife’s tale about dogs and their owners evolving into looking alike. But that couldn’t be it because number one I would have to be the dog in that instance because Tiff’s too pretty which is also why you couldn’t say we look alike.

However, I can understand why people would think she was my biological daughter because she is like me in other ways. Poor thing. They really should have put more research into those “Be Like Mike” ad campaigns. I’m not sure she would have wanted to be like me if she knew she would inherit the things she did like anxiety, stress, worry, an incredibly soft heart, health issues, bad luck, and how to cuss like a sailor. Wait, that last one probably came biologically. Actually I’m quite sure it did from her mom’s side because of all those cussing West Virginia Pentecostal’s. (Just kidding Renee’) When I attended one of their services years and years ago and they started speaking in tongues they sounded like they were cussing like sailors and I’m pretty sure I peed myself a bit. Tiff even followed me into radio unintentionally. Poor thing. She adapted my warped sense of humor. Poor Tiff.

There’s also all the things she can be happy that evolved into that has nothing to do with biological parents or inheriting traits. She’s beautiful and super photogenic. She is an incredibly awesome friend to have. She stands by her friends and family no matter what. Although it isn’t healthy for her she will be there for anyone no matter what she may be going through herself. She has unrealistic dreams of saving every animal on the planet. She truly believes in the charities she supports and the rights of others. One thing I’m really proud that I taught all of the kids was to have good manners and respect. None of them let me down in that department. The one thing I haven’t been able to teach Tiff is that you don’t have to put everyone else’s feelings first. Sometimes you have to put yourself first. She’s just a young pup though, she has plenty of time to learn that. Happy Birthday Tiff.

    “It will get better.” “It takes time.” “Be patient, things will change.” “Everything happens for a reason.” All of these things are true. We’ve all heard them in regards to something in our lives and we may have experienced their truth and said them to others.

    I won’t be saying these things to my mom this week. It’s not that it’s the first Christmas without Dad. It doesn’t matter if it’s a holiday or a Tuesday it’s another day without Dad for her. Even if all the sayings are true it doesn’t change the way things are today. Each day you have to find the strength in life to face whatever challenges there are. The challenges are real whether it’s money, job, relationships, or the loss of a loved one. I think the strength comes in not going backwards. Not letting what has happened or what didn’t get done consume you so that you are unable to go forward to make it to the point that all of the sayings come to fruition. In any of these situations who wouldn’t want to just go to sleep or crawl under a rock until the “required” time has passed. The reason you can’t is for several reasons which I think the biggest is that the “required” time is different for everyone. Point being is that there isn’t an actual required time. Another reason you can’t crawl under a rock and wait it out is that each passing day makes you stronger that you have made it.

    I’m combining physical things with emotional things because it’s the best analogy to help people understand. Rarely do people look at emotional issues in the same way that they do physical ones. You look at a bone sticking out of someone’s skin and you say ‘Holy shit, that has to hurt!’ You can’t see the same pain when someone is hurting emotionally or grieving. Here’s my analogy… If someone has a crushed leg they can be told that “it will get better” “it takes time”. It may be true but it doesn’t change the fact that they are in excruciating pain at the moment. I can’t imagine an EMT arriving at the scene and saying, “It will get better” You would say, “Gee thanks. That’s swell. Do you have a time frame? My leg really smarts right now though.” We know they can’t just go to sleep or crawl under a rock and wake up when it’s better. Then when you woke up you would still need for your leg to heal and get therapy. I’m not a doctor or an expert of any sort so my analogies might be pretty lame. Compare the scenario with someone who has lost a loved one or had a relationship end. It will get better in time. However, it doesn’t make it hurt any less each day that you are in pain until it gets better.

    I am doing great. I’ve said that so many times to people that it may seem that I’m trying to convince myself. If that’s the case then it’s working because I do feel great. But having my wife leave abruptly prompted all those comments of ‘It will get better’ etc… They were all true. It didn’t make me feel better though and as a matter of fact I knew it was true but was almost annoying to constantly be reminded. I’m a stronger better person.

    So now I will not use those words on my mom no matter how true they are. Now reminding her to be active and interact with others. I’ll keep doing that.

    I’m thinking of contesting my dad’s will. I can’t actually because it’s a moot point as it was a will for my mom and dad both. I think he would have gotten a kick out of me contesting it though and that makes me laugh.

    I wouldn’t contest it because it’s unfair although anything that doesn’t have me at a higher proportion than my siblings is essentially unfair. It’s because of what he put at the end of the will.

    When my brother and sister were in the room going over the stuff in his safety deposit box with my mom, among the contents was the will. All of the standard stuff and everything split equally among my siblings and I. However, at the end he put in what is standard a lot of times and particularly in the movies that if any of us should try and contest the will we would only get the sum of $1.

    Gary said Dad told him about that a few years ago when they had it drawn up as he was proud of it I’m sure. I don’t want anything from a will. Knowing it would crack him up and as a bonus be the best dollar I ever got is pretty tempting.

    I’m glad I was able to make it to KC to spend my dad’s last few days at the hospital. I didn’t spend a lot of time in the room with him like others did. Mostly because I wanted to let others spend time with him that had traveled to see him and there were times I wanted my mom to have the quality time of just the two of them. I told him that if I was in there and he had all these other people in there too that it would keep him from getting the rest he needed and I wanted to him to go home sooner so I could spend more time with him out of the hospital.

    I’ve had his last words he said to me etched in my mind because they make me smile. The more I thought about it the more I realized they weren’t the last that he said to me but they were the best. I had walked past his room which was the first one in ICU past the doors. I was going to get some ice like I did a million times and the ice was across from the nurses station in a little kitchen there. On my way back I looked in the room and my niece Jessica was in there holding his hand and he saw me. I couldn’t keep going without stopping in the room. So while we were standing there I thought his mouth was dry and offered him some of the ice that was in my cup. He accepted and I put it in his mouth. Not before dropping one on his chest that must have jump started his heart more. A couple of moments later I asked if he wanted more ice and he said no. I said “well I do” and shook some from the cup into my mouth. He frowned and said, “I said yes”. I laughed and said “sorry I swear you said no” He turned his head a little bit and said, “Tightwad”. That was classic dad. He wasn’t feeling well at that moment but he wasn’t angry and though he didn’t smile about it he was being funny. He was being dad.

    I was thinking those were his last words directly said to me and I’m going to pretend they were. However, his actual final words directly to me were still just as typical of dad. He was being transferred from his ICU room to a regular room. I had not been outside for several days and my friend Kent Arwood had offered to take me out to eat since I didn’t have a car of my own there. As he was in a wheel chair and we were walking from ICU to his new room and I told him I was going to be gone for a while to go have dinner with Arwood. He said, “Oh does he live up here now?” I was so surprised that his mind went there. But I really shouldn’t have been. That was so “dad”. He always paid attention to not only was going on with his kids and grandkids but also to what they told him about their friends. When I would talk to my dad and mention things about friends and people I worked with he hung on to it as if he knew them himself. He would ask me about them and about any changes they had going on from something I had told him before.

    I think “tightwad” is funnier but I’ll remember everything about the last days that I spent with my dad. Little did I know how much I was like him and how he prepared me for this time. Thanks. Oh, my last words to Dad? After the services and my siblings and my mom were breaking up our huddle where we had been laughing about funny things we were saying to each other, the funeral director was starting to close the casket as my family walked away. I moved the other direction toward dad and the funeral director was startled and said, “I’m sorry did you need more time.” I said no I just need to do this and I stepped over and said, “Bye Dad” and smiled. I walked away and they closed the casket. Dad would have liked that.