Happy Birthday Dad!

Dear Dad,

Wow, I can’t believe it’s been another year already. I feel like I was just writing this letter. I guess time flies when you’re having fun. Yeah, I have been having fun. Over the last year I took up golf and skiing… and of course yoga. As Beth says, she took up yoga, I joined the cult of yoga. But it’s been so good for me.

I can palm the ground, and do a handstand. You wouldn’t believe how empowering that is, to do a handstand. It makes me feel like a superhero, to be able to lift my own weight on my hands. And my hamstrings have loosened, I mean really loosened. They were so tight when I started yoga. Now I just need to open my hips.

Chardie tried Bikrams yoga with us last summer. He did great. It’s a grueling class, with 105 degree heat, and 90 minutes of asanas and breathing exercises. It’s sometimes calld McYoga. I’m not a big fan of Bikrams, I’m into Iyengar right now. Very snooty. But great really, it focuses on the technical side, alignment, not hurting yourself. We practice Ahimsa – nonviolence to our bodies.

And golf has been fun too. Surprisingly really. I don’t think I’ll ever be any good. But I really got a chance to get out there and enjoy myself. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to golf with you. I heard numerous times that you were terrible! But a great sport and fun golfer. I aim to be the same. It’s hard for me not to stress and get competitive. But I’m trying.

And skiing… well that’s just terrifying. I can’t even begin to express my fear of skiing. Beth was a great teacher though. She really brought me through the basics. And held my hand when I needed it. And I’m still terrified of skiing. But I’m a little closer to being there. I think in 3 or 4 years I might be okay. It’s good to have long term goals. I might even buy skis. Those shorter skis are pretty cool. I want a pair of Roxy Pixie Sticks! I want mom to take it up. I think she’d really like it.

Beth and I also took up Improv. You’d love doing that. It’s right up your alley, quick word play, witty banter, absurdity… It’s been great, we have an inclination to that kind of thing I think. Can you image we both have to go to an Improv audition next week? The idea is to join the improve troupe but we’ve only had one set of classes, so I can’t imagine how hard this is going to be. It scares the living daylights out of me, so naturally I have to do it. I can’t wait for that to be over. Our teacher wanted us all to do it though, just to practice, so maybe next year if we audition again, the judges will see how much we’ve improved. Yikes though. It’s very scary.

In other news, my job is sliding out from under me, Hillary lost the nomination, my art suffers from neglect, and socially I’m somewhat stagnant.

That Hillary business really hurts though. I know you couldn’t understand, because you’re a man and men can’t really be feminists. I mean they can try but so much of it just flies over their heads, they don’t notice how ingrained it is, in our culture and language. The campaign was vicious. Hillary held her head up and kept a smile up no matter what they threw at her. And in the end it was no use. Had Florida and Michigan been allowed to vote, it might have swung momentum. Had we got rid of the caucuses and only had primaries (you know with secret ballots, which I think is a pretty important thing, the secret ballot) things would have been different. Hell if we were like republicans and had winner take all contests, things would have been different. Hillary would have taken all, she won the big states. She won he swing states. She won the bell weather states. She won every state you are supposed to win the nomination. But still she lost. People hate her. They call her ‘that woman’. They hold her husband’s crimes against her. She went up against an unbelievable double standard. She was too hard, too soft, a bitch, a war monger, she played the gender card, she emasculated men, she was shrill, she cackled, she wore pants suits, and showed cleavage, she cried (she didn’t actually cry she misted up once). She made mistakes. She became my hero. She’s no Babs Boxer, but she’s is one tough woman.

Obama won, so I guess that a victory for the man. He preaches a message of hope. No woman could get away with preaching a message of hope. They’d call her a flake; she’d be torn to shreds. But Obama can, he’s a rock star.

Celtics are in the finals. It’s been a long time, and the city is lit with the excitement. They took game one. I even watched.

And the Olympics are almost here… The Greek Festival is happening this weekend. I can’t wait to go. I love the Greek Festival. Jimmie Johns passed away this year. That was sad, Beth and I paid our respects to Stevie and the Johns family.

And three of your nephews and nieces are getting married this year. Steve and Lindsay had a beautiful wedding. Emily Hogan is getting married this July, her shower is actually Sunday, but Beth and I will be auditioning for a play that day or, several small 10 minute plays. Based on Norman Rockwell’s art. It should be fun.

Chris Shomphe is getting married in September and I’m doing his wedding invitations. He asked me to, which was strange but flattering. Apparently he thinks of me as an artist. Would that I thought of myself that way! The invitations are coming along. We’ll see how they turn out in the end.

I’ve picked up some acrylic paint and started painting (for real). Funny though, no matter how many times I jump media, I’m still stuck with my work, and my style. It’s like I’m being held prisoner by it. Why this would surprise me…

It’s almost father’s day. Because I loved you so much… sometimes I give Chardie advice about his daughters. Once I gave him a fathers day card the read "you're so much like a father to me, I even roll my eyes when you start to talk" But sometimes I tell him about the things you did that I loved. I tell him, buy the girls jewelry every once and a while. I remember you once offered to by me a silver claddagh ring. I didn’t want it. It wasn’t you, it was school, I was in 8th grade, and a claddagh ring was a hassle. It was status. It marked you as Irish, and told your status, do you have a boyfriend? I couldn’t bear the thought one even from my father. It was pressure.

But now I wish I had let you. I wish I had jewelry from you. I tell him when he goes to weddings dance with his daughters while they are still young. They’ll remember it at their weddings.

Well Dad, it’s been a dozen years now. I miss you. I love you. I think of you often. I remember this one day, it was just a little thing… You dropped me off at my dorm, and gave me a hug, and kissed my cheek. You hadn’t shaved that day, and I could feel the stubble against my neck. Sometimes I can still feel that embrace. I remember that vividly. My dad.

I love you dad.

Kate