Happy Birthday dear ol dad!

Dear ol’ Dad Happy Birthday!  

Another year and this one has been a doozy.  I don’t know about you Shea boys you seem to have something against the month of April and think about your daughter’s birthdays.  I know that life isn’t fair, it keeps getting proven over and over at great cost to all of us.  Having Chardie taken away was just cruel.  He was my favorite uncle, he was my friend, and he believed in me in way that most people don’t.  This was another devastating loss.  And I know I will be shockingly fine, shocking soon and I will get to the new normal faster than I can imagine, I can’t help but wallow in the loss right now.

Chardie was a rock for us when you died.  For all of us.  But we used to always say that he was our last and best link to you.  I have not exaggerated when I’ve said we have been devastated.  The loss is palpable. 

I had just been talking about him about the afterlife too.  And my conflicting views on Christianity, death, and the afterlife.  Which I suppose in some way I must believe in because I keep writing these letters to you.  But really is that why I right them?  Is it really for you or is it just an exercise in summing up a year for myself?  Does it matter which I believe, and which I hope.  You know that changes sometimes.  I had been talking to Brian about it.  He believes.  He believes in heaven and hell and all of the trimmings.  I don’t know what I believe.  I would say I’m in the firm camp that I swear there ain’t no heaven and I pray there ain’t no hell.  But I guess in the end I might be hoping for the sweet oblivion.  Still up in the air on that one.    But at the time… Brian had me so scared I almost couldn’t sleep at night. 

Beth and I started a new project, blogging the bible.  I can practically hear you rolling your eyes.    I really can.  I’m hoping this little exercise will help me scrape some of the catholic off of me.    I doubt that you’d appreciate that one.  But you might like the way we are going about it.  Actually reading the bible, the new testament, has been eye opening.  It calls to a larger debate on the holy scripture, the church and the nicey nice ideas about JC, I mean Jesus.  We are almost through the gospels, and he really runs the gambit on being a real sweetheart and genuine jack ass.  I’m sure you would have enjoyed a likely debate about it.

And skiing… I finally made it down a black diamond trail!  Of course not without terrible… terrible… consequences.  But the point is I made it down.  In one piece.  Well, physically anyway.  You can read all about my adventure in my story, The Monster on the Mountain.   FYI I am the monster on the  mountain. 

Beth is pregnant which is very exciting of course.  We are all thrilled.  But no one is more thrilled than Brian who has pledged to be the best uncle ever and would love to mover to Portland to take that title.  I’m excited too but… this just changes everything.  And I guess part of me suddenly recognizes what I’ll never be ready for, and what I’ll never have.  It’s okay in some ways it’s good.  Best to get these feelings over with now.  I am really happy for Beth and John.  They will be great parents.   I’m sorry that you’ll miss out on that.  

I’ve been cooking.  Oh you’d hate this, I’ve been experimenting with asian cookery.  From Saag Paneer with home made cheese, that I made myself, to scallion pancakes which I love and experiment constantly with the filling, to pan steamed dumplings, and glutinous rice balls and coconut sticky rice.  Drunken noodles too.   I know you hated Chinese food, but dad, the things I’ve been making have been delicious.  And crepes, you might enjoy my foray into the world of crepes and popovers.   Its good spicy food.

 I often wonder if you’d like any of the food Beth and I love so much.  The Indian food… or Ethiopian.  I don’t know that you would like the raw beef, diced and gently warmed in spicy butter.  I’m a vampire and I absolutely love it. 

We had a tornado in Massachusetts.  Not like the one when you were a kid.  This one was awful though tearing down hundreds of buildings in the Springfield area and killing three people.  It was a strange time.  I was with a group of people who… I don’t know how to say it. We’ll just say we have different views of warnings.

I’m at the Shea’e right now.  I’m so comfortable here.  I love it.  But I still feel like I am waiting for Chardie.  It’s sweet though, Dan texts me now and again. It makes me feel better.  I suppose when someone dies, you take comfort in the people they were closest too.   Love is a community. 

I managed to get some closure on your funeral at Chardie’s funeral.  I gave a eulogy, I helped right his obituary, I scanned pictures for people.  I always regretted not speaking at your funeral.  I hated your obituary.  At a time that everything had felt person, none of that had felt personal .  This time it did.  Here’s what I read.

Hullo Favorite Uncle!  Hello Dear Uncle!  Hello Fine Uncle!

We used to greet each other by title, not name.  He did that, I would call him Uncle, he would call me niecy… Hullo Niecy! Or if he needed a favor “My Favorite Niece”.  Chardie was everybody’s favorite uncle with the best laugh.  It might not have been the classical “Lilt of Irish laughter” but it was one of the greatest laughs this world has ever known.  He laughed loudly and often, and I hope someday the same will be said for all of us.

Years ago, I gave him a father’s day card.  I had been missing my own dad, and he was the closest thing I had to a father.   So I carefully picked out a card to express exactly how I was feeling.  Hallmark makes some truly wonderful cards.  I think this one had a cat on it but it was the message that really touched my heart.  It expressed everything I wanted to say to my most favorite uncle “You’re so much like a father to me, I even roll my eyes when you talk”  Chardie just laughed and gave me a big bear hug, and said it was perfect.  He might have called me a creepo.  He had a really loving way of delivering a goofy insult.

There are so many things I want to say about my uncle, so many stories to tell, so many memories I have.  Silly things really, singing karaoke with him, or when I broke my little toe and he me drove into Boston.  He handed me a little money, because I was a little short on funds…  I asked him if it was to buy a new toe?  He shook his head and smiled, “It’s for drinks, silly, to ease the pain” He was generous and brilliant man that way!

I tried to figure out some story or gesture that would capture the essence of Chard.  His daughter Ryan, was quick to help, and Erin agreed that this was something that needed to be included.  And some of you might remember him doing this.

Psst sizzle!  Hot stuff!  A specific but familiar gesture followed.

And you know he really was hot stuff.

I'm sure you would have gone a little more sincere, or eloquent in the situation.  But I wanted people to know that I was talking about Chard.  Beth's was more touching, with better deliver.  I was a little autopiloted on mine.  I thought I might break with the opening line, if I could get through that I could get through the rest of it.

And as for your remaining brother, he who must not be named.  There is a lot of argument about how you would have felt about things.  I ended up drawing a hard line and saying I am done.  He no longer had his brother’s to protect him.  I’m sorry he went down that bad path, and I’m sure he misses you and Chard very much.

Mom’s garden’s is getting crazy.  You’d be proud of her.  So many flowers, it looks like paradise. Right now there are enormous peonies, and oriental poppies in bloom.  I’ve been helping, but mom is the real artist in that endeavor I just provide a little labor.

Brian ran a marathon yesterday he looks fantastic, we are so proud of him.  And Beth moved still in Portland but renting a house.  I just made popovers which turned out terribly and wrote my chapter of the bible project.  This will be my fourth year of yoga this month.  I love it.  I’m still not very good at it, but I’ve learned that’s not what it’s about.  I used to wait for the day I could do an asana, or do it better, but I don’t do that as much.   I’m trying  more in lie generally but in skiing in particular to practice of reach a state of “effortless effort” prayatna shaithilya. 

Oh I completed another online advent calendar for Christmas.  If I were smart, I’d start next year’s right now.  But I’m not that bright.  Or disciplined.

Anyway, that’s the update, I’ll probably start writing a letter to Chardie every year too.  Try not to be jealous.  I love you.  I miss you.   And if there is an afterlife… which at Chardie’s funeral, I very clearly heard Chardie say something to be, in my head, I can’t vouch that this was him talking… it could have just be my brain trying to comfort me but I heard this You know, you where wrong about everything Katie.  It was wonderful.”  So if there is an afterlife, I kind of hope it went down like the final scene in Shawshank Redemption.  Somewhere on the beach you’d look up and Chardie would be walking towards you.  With a big smile of recognition, you would call out “brother”.  I think I might watch too many movies.

I love you dad.  I miss you.  Happy birthday!

Happy birthday dad!

Dear Dad,

Another year has passed. I can’t quite believe it. I am still out of work but you’ll understand that I don’t really want to talk about it. Beth got married! And by all reasonable accounts it was a great success. While it lacked some of the pomp and circumstance that you may liked it was a highly personal ceremony and I think you’d have appreciated that . Beth is such an individual, I know you’d be proud of how she arranged things.

I performed the ceremony, and I did try to include you in it. I took my cues from various best man speeches I have seen in movies and on TV. There is a nice formula used where you veer between funny and unabashed sincerity, and if you can choke up at least once, it’s a crowd pleaser. This is what I learned. And although I felt extremely emotional that day, and I worried that I would break down and cry several times, I held it together and I think you’d be proud of that.

I wish you could have been at the wedding. We had so much fun. I had so much fun. Beth true to form jumped into the swimming pool in her wedding dress. I don’t think I could have been more proud of her, she is so spirited. I followed suit and as my dress was already wet, I continued to swim in it through out the day. I love to swim. You know that. In a way it was more fun to swim in a dress because it is taboo and I felt like I was getting away with something. You’d be proud.

Chardie was a great credit to you. Taking up much of your role as firefighter, cooling the little flare ups that occurred. He did so much for the wedding and was sweet about it. As did Caryn, my sounding board for much of the lead up.

I came to an interesting conclusion through all of this, about my role as a middle child. Middle children are known as peacekeepers. You knew that. You were a middle child. But suddenly it occurred to me what a peacekeeper is… it’s not always nice, and it’s not always good or right. I’m more of a peacekeeper in the military sense, you know those “peace keeping” missions. You know the ones, the ones that the “peacekeepers” go in with guns and flamethrowers to keep the peace. When it’s over you look around at the innocent civilians that were hurt and you think “Wow, that was bad. I didn’t think that would happen.” But it’s a lie you knew the consequences when you started and you hoped, but weren’t sure, that it was for the greater good. And maybe it was necessary, but you’ll never be sure. That was me. I did that, and I don’t know that I should have. But I think that’s what middle children do sometimes, in the name of peace. I have to keep eye on that kind of behavior but I think you know what I mean. And I think you’ve played that role before.

Which brings me to the next role I’ve played too much lately, of secret keeper. I have taken in secrets that I sigh… I crave, I love being on the inside of anything. And once I’m in, I want to get out. I actually hate holding the secrets. I have a hard time with that. I need to stop looking for secrets.

It’s strange now that wedding is over, I worked so hard on it, now that it’s over there is a great void. An enormous void. A void so large I fear I’m going to get sucked in. I don’t even know what means but I’m standing on the edge of something, and I’m afraid.

Brian and I did well though. We’ve been more sensitive to each other and it’s made a difference. You’d be proud of him, he’s well loved by his friends and family and forever charming.

And Beth of course you’d be proud of. She picked a winner in John, he’s a sweet guy and a rare individual. The two of them make a nice balance.

I’ve been an emotional wreck lately. Leaving Beth at the airport I hugged her tight and told her it was the best wedding ever and just let the sobs rack through us. I wasn’t sure why we were crying or what made it so hard to say goodbye but it was. Even saying goodbye to John I hugged him too tight and told him how happy I was that he married Beth. It was all very unlike me.

I wish you have been there at the wedding. I wish you could ever have tasted my Mai Tais, I made them for the wedding, five gallons of Mai tais that people complained were too strong. Which I think means they were perfect. I told Stephanie, how I learned to make Mai Tais from a stewardess on the way to Hawaii. We had ordered Mai Tais on the plan, now mind you it was 10am, and she told us we could buy Mai Tais or she could show us how to make better Mai Tais and save a dollar. The Mai tai was amazing. She was amazing. And now my Mai Tais are amazing.

I wish I had more to say about me. My year was filled with complicated emotions, water, a trip to Portland. I explored a cave! You would have loved to do that. And dad, I’m skiing, I’m really skiing! I mean I’m still no good at it. But I’m getting over all of that fear and it’s so much fun! I skied in snow and rain, and 10 degree weather and I had fun! And the Ski lodges, Oh dad, I love the lodge… I could spend all day in a ski lodge drinking and looking around and watching the skiers. I wish more than anything, that I could show you skiing.

And I was productive in the last year, more art that ever, and I have to get back to that. My favorite pieces were the circus girls, the illustrations for undone, intricate, and idle. I’d like to think that you can all of it.

It’s the Greek festival this week. I plan on going several times and I’ll think of you when I’m there.

And mom has been a champ this year. I love her and am so proud of her. Look in on her garden if you get the chance, it’s something special. And she handled the wedding and the stresses that lead up to it was much grace and stoicism. Despite my peacekeeping efforts.

I love you. I would tell you more but… I would be here all day.

I wish you could have been at the wedding. I know you’d like John.

They used say I was the one most like you, but they stopped and I can’t help wonder if it’s because I failed to be more like you. Maybe they’ve forgotten what you were like. Maybe I was never so much like you. I’ve been called a rock lately. It’s one of those compliments that gets under my skin. I don’t want to be a rock or the wind beneath somebody’s wings. I can’t imagine anyone does. Sure I try to be a good friend, and be there for people but I am an exciting and dynamic person who shines on her own.

I’ve also vowed that if I ever get married I will only elope. I’ll send postcards from Vegas saying “Guess what? Kate got Married!” Mom can throw a party after.

And my birthday was awesome, I spent it with my pal Linda pretending we were in Mexico, drinking only bottled water, due to a burst pipe that affected all of greater Boston. And we may have had a few drinks that day. Bar hopping and joking about the water situation. It was a good day.

I love you.

And happy birthday dad!

Love,

The Kate

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Dad's Birthday Letter...

Dear Dad,
I can’t believe it’s that time of the year again. I never thought it would last. I never thought I would keep writing to you on your birthday. It surprises me a little every year. What is this, 13 years? It’s a long time. I miss you, I love you, I wish you were here.

First and foremost I have to tell that Beth is engaged to John Marshall. And we all love him even Chardie, especially Chardie. He was my coworker. I’m laid off now. He was my friend first, and he loves her. And I love them. Brian hasn’t met him yet but I know he’ll like him. We all do.
I did a portrait of you this year, in my new style.

I’m writing and drawing a comic book. It’s about dreams and where they come from. And I don’t know if it is any good or would ever be published or if it’s even something that will lead to something but I really want to complete it. I really feel like I need to. It’s slow going and I’m plagued with doubts. I don’t know how you wrote your novel. I can’t get through mapping out the story for 32 pages. I did however hit the ¼ mark the other day. So that’s something right?
I keep at hoping that this wisp of a dream pans out. But it’s something I need to do. I think you would respect that. And I think you’d like the story so far. I don’t want to go into on my blog though. This will go public when I’m ready.

As stalled as I sometimes feel on this project, it’s been nice focusing on the creative side of things again. I needed this break to recharge. I can breath again, I don’t panic when I want to draw something. Or sometimes I panic, but not as often or for as long. It’s easier. And my confidence is building in subtle ways that I don’t notice now but will later. It’s the way I draw casually again. When I have an idea, or want to express something vague in my head. Don’t laugh I know that’s how it’s supposed to be! But it’s not. I get drained.

It’ll be two years of yoga this summer! Twice a week. It’s still great, but man oh man my hips will never open! They just ache in and refuse to move in class, I have the hips of a 90 year old woman! It’s terrible. But I keep at it. I am hoping to be part of Nadia’s assessment class this winter. That would be an honor. We love Nadia, she’s in India right now, studying at the Iyengar institute. She’ll be there for a month, and then she’s adopting a baby and will miss the next two months. Which is pretty exciting. But we’ll miss her. Bec however (our Tuesday teacher) will still be there.

We had our first family vacation in years! For mom’s 60th birthday we all went to St. Johns. You would have loved it! It’s so beautiful there. Like paradise. With such beautiful turquoise water and a magical drink they call the lime and coconut. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? You put the lime in the coconut and shake it all up, with a nice virgin island rum! It’s brilliant. Of course Brian and I got into a vicious fight the last night but we patched things up the best way we could. This was not unlike the fight we go onto when he was home for Chris’s wedding. We get along fine on our own but you add another person and it’s shrapnel to the hand grenade. Let’s see how we do at Beth’s wedding ;) I’m just kidding, we always last until the after party.

Barack Obama is president now. He’s doing the best he can. The call this the great recession. It’s pretty bad though. I’m nervous being out of work and all but what can you do? There have been some scary and surreal moments. The other day Obama cam on the air to announce GM going bankrupt, and citing Chrysler’s recent bankruptcy and merging with Fiat (of all companies) as a shining example of hope for the future. It was very Atlas Shrugged. In fact right now everything is very Atlas Shrugged. Which surprisingly isn’t me nay saying Obama. Despite how it sounded, and he certainly didn’t expand on this, the Chrysler Fiat merge could be great. It would give Fiat a bigger foothold in the global market, as they compete with VW, and it could bring some of the fuel efficient Fiat line to America which will provide, us with cars we actually want to drive. So I see how it could work. But it’s still not a good sign. And he’s kept message of hope. Which as it turns out I’m fan of. It’s the fireside chat of the day. Hillary is Secretary of State, and you don’t hear as much about her.

I still dream about you. You still don’t talk in my dreams. Deadmen tell no tales. And I had a dream that I made a piece of art of you. I’m debating whether that will come to fruition or not. I mean it was a little weird and kind of in a way cross dressy as it was a drawing of you as the statue of liberty. I don’t know that that’s how you want to be remembered in life but… it tickles me a bit.

Times have changed Dad, cross dressing is a little more popular and accepted. I had a dream that a handsome man in was wearing a kilt. And I very much desired to uhm… talk to him in my dream. I real longing to talk to him. But alas he eluded me, mores the pity. Anyway, Hadley asked me if he had been wearing eyeliner. I hadn’t noticed in the dream, but In my head I thought, he is now! Because guys in eyeliner and shirts are apealing. Yeah I know, it’s the artist in me, thanks for sharing. Why is it that every time I write your letter I put something in to bother you. I guess it’s to show I haven’t lost my sense of humor.

And the movie recommendation is… Man on Wire. Because it renewed a sense of hope and belief in me. And despite my lack of organized religion, I think everyone wants something to believe in. Whether it’s a sports team, or a politician, or hitching your wagon to someone else’s dream… we all want to believe. It’s about the Frenchman who strung a wire between the twin towers, and walk across it early one morning. It was a classic heist movie, with a hare brain idea and some friends in on the game. But it’s a story told well, with charm and great music, and vision and I suppose some history.

I’m going to Dana’s wedding today. I did the invitations for her wedding, and soon I will do Beth’s invitations. I never thought she’s want a wedding, Beth, not Dana. I was excited that Dana was getting married on your birthday. I thought it was a good sign. It’s a good day.

I really wish you were here right now. I could really use your advice and your unrealistic confidence in me, and your unconditional love. I’m scared and sliding and failing again. And I just want a hug from you in particular. I love you, I miss you! Happy Birthday Dad.

Love,
Kate

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

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Another year another day. Not much changed. Same old job, same old song and dance, and I get by on a wing a prayer. Not to say things are all bad or that no good has come this year. I haven’t been very productive lately. I fee worn out. I know I know these things happen, I do the best I can. That should be enough. I’m supposed to start yoga tomorrow. Maybe that will help.

I thought of you the other day, these thoughts seem to grow more distant, more personal, sweeter or sometimes funnier when they happen. My world is a little colder without your unconditional love. I warm myself on these memories.

Someone mentioned their father would pick them up at the airport, and would probably park and come in. And I thought you’d do that. You’d come and pick me up from the airport. You’d park and maybe buy a coffee or something. You’d do it because you were relaxed and laid back and would think why not enjoy a trip to the airport. And you’d do it because you loved me. I miss that. Although mom has become sentimental and now parks to pick people up from the airport.

I miss you, and wonder what you would think of all the political hoopla. Who would win your vote, are you a Hilary fan or Obama? What would you think of global warming, Al Gore and the state of the union? Would you be as liberal as I hope? Perhaps not. But we would talk about all of it.

And Chardy. You’d be so proud of him. Chardy, embodies so much of your spirit, of the Shea spirit, of our spirit. I live vicariously through their family. He loves his kid as you did. He’s a big marshmallow for them. Caryn is so wonderful, so fierce and loving, and smart and competitive.

I’ve discovered a new love. Del Toro. Pan’s Labyrinth and The Devil’s Backbone hit me in the way that only a good catholic director could. I wonder if you’d like them. So beautiful and violent, terrifying, poignant, and rare, would you like them? Would they go too far you? I don’t know. I think you’d enjoy them. Especially Pan’s Labyrinth

Brian is Brian, we communicate through a series of notes about movies and Sox conversations. It’s a subtle form of communication but it will suffice until we find more common ground. It bridges the love that is there.

You’d be so proud of Beth. Back to school she goes, fighting the workforce. It’s hard for us. But we do our best. She is so incredibly compassionate, and so strikingly intelligent. We spend hours complimenting each other on our common sense and the disbelief that the people around us aren’t more alarmed by the goings on of the world. History has become our greatest ally, much to my own chagrin. I can see you smile at that.

Mom has retired and is as busy as ever. I think she misses you more now. This was supposed to be your time together. You’d be down the Cape by now reading on the beach. Maybe the two of you would travel, see the world. Italy perhaps? France? I can see it in my mind. Mom’s a little upset that I’ll be taking the road trip with Beth this summer. But I needed it more than she did. And Beth is and forever will be my best friend. Mom will get her chance too.

So my dear father, I leave things much the same. A spark of hope, a twinkle of luck and a heavy dash of cynicism. I love you. I miss you. And I try to appreciate this big shiny world on your behalf. I’m sure life is wasted on the living and I’ll try to sit back and enjoy the view now and again.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Your loving daughter,

Kate

Happy Birthday Dad

It’s dad’s birthday today. I wrote my annual letter to my dad.

Dear Dad,

Well I tried to give your birthday away this year. I thought you’d like that. I thought you would appreciate the gesture. It keeps it close to us, the day, you, everything. Tried... I didn’t quite succeed but then again, switching Connor’s Birthday to June 6th on 6/6/06 might nor have been the best idea. Maybe next year. I’ll still take him to NYC as a birthday present in June.

Another reason to call it D-Day… Devil’s Day, Dad’s Day.

It was tougher than I thought this year as the anniversary rolled around. It’s been ten years. And I still miss things about you. And I’ve forgotten so much about you. I feel like now I remember the way you look more from photographs instead of memories. Chardy helps. He’s our last link to you. I guess we’re his last link you too. But enough of that. We both know that I love and miss you.

I hope you’re not too mad at us for the Day of the Dad. I know you would rather we were more supportive of mom about this but… I vowed that I would never let your death ruin my birthday again. I know she wants me to be there for her but… I’m not the one to do it. She should find someone else. One of her sisters because I’m not going to do it. I can’t. It’s been ten years, she should find someone else to hold her hand that day. I fought too hard to keep that mine, to keep it happy.

Plus that zombie movie kind of got to me. I wonder what you’d think of it. Forgive me not wanting you to come back that day. It’s just those zombies, they acted like you do in my dreams. It must be a common dream… shared by many who grieve. But it was scary to see it fleshed out in film. Disturbing and fascinating. Like all the best things right?

So what have I been up too? Oh the usual dead end career, art on the side although I’ve started calling myself an artist again. I’m an artist I’m just doing a little freelance reception on the side. Yeah I thought that was pretty funny.

I know, I’ll figure it out. It’s just a struggle. In the mean time I fight with myself about art and what I should be doing right now. I should be working on the book. I should be planning the trip to New York, I should be working on a large watercolor or finishing the pictures for Mom’s Mother’s Day present. I should be making a new picture for Louis’s birthday and Laura’s Birthday. I should be making a plan for me life.

Yet I’m happy. I’ve been pleased with my last projects, gifts for weddings and birthdays. Shadow boxes, with cut paper. The space one really made me pretty happy Zelda Zap Galactic Space Girl. Emily Hogan now owns that one. Sarah’s was a little more personal. Matt’s was a work of art. But I’m a little nervous about that one.

I don’t know why I’m telling you this. It will either amuse or appall you. Matt’s shadowbox, it’s a Hawaiian theme, things they will do on their honeymoon in Hawaii. It’s broken into 4 boxes, one of them hiking, one in a beach bar, one snorkeling (Did you ever snorkel? That’s good fun) and the last is a Luau with two hula girls dancing. So… when I drew the hula girls I was having trouble with their proportions so I drew them naked first, and anatomically correct and all and pasted on the hula skirts and tops and all of that but the glue I used wasn’t so great. So I’m convinced in time it will get brittle and break and all of their clothes with fall off leaving the naked girls! You know I only gave it to them because I didn’t think they’d like it in the first place. But I worked very hard to make it wonderful enough that they might fall in love with it. I could have used better glue but I didn’t… I know it’s wrong but I just think that’s funny.

I was at the Greek Festival this weekend. It was the same as it ever was. It was exactly the same. I smiled and ate and watched the dancing with a mix of nostalgia and resentment. I scanned the crowd for people I knew and hid my eyes when I thought I’d recognize them. I hid in plane sight and soaked in the ambience. I thought I should get a drink to really enjoy this. I thought of you.

Sarah has her masters now, Library Science; Emily’s a doctor like Pam. Jimmy is the same, good natured, yuppie, liberal. He’s still smart and sharp, loves kids and seems genuinely happy to see us. Pam has two boys, they are cute and she’s happy, her husband is sweet. Kathy is the same, exactly the same.

As for Beth, she has plans, is going to Chile, is finishing school, applying to graduate school. She’ll be an English Professor someday or she’ll be something else. You’ll be proud of her though.

Brian’s still searching for someone to complete him. He should try looking inside himself. I love my brother but he’s still just soul sick. I guess we all are. He just has it worse than the rest of us.

We saw Alison. Or rather Beth and Mom did. She’s doing well two kids and all that. She misses us as much as we miss her.

The Shea kids are huge. Connor is a reader, smart, goofy, sweet, wonderful. Erin is athletic, kind, saucy and fresh. Ryan is little miss sassafras. She is all attitude and charm. You’d love them. And Chardy sails on the same sea of confusion as Beth and me. Ships in search of something else. We’ve vowed to take care of each other when any of us make it big. And I don’t doubt it.

And I’m starting to think you are lucky you missed the series. It really isn’t same now that they won. The Yankee rivalry doesn’t even feel the same to me. I wouldn’t trade those seven games for the world… that’s how you should fight against the Yankees. That will be the pinnacle of that rivalry for me. But I now recognize that it was the end of an era and nothing will be the same after that. And that’s good and bad. Long suffering led to poetry in our writing, sorrow let to dark humor, my favorite kind.

I love you.

I never believed it would be ten years since I’ve seen your smile, heard your voice, felt your touch. I know it would come I knew things would be okay. I knew I would be okay but I never believed 10 years would pass so quickly. You are so much a part of me. You’ll always be such a part of me. Thank goodness for that.

I’ll make you proud. I promise.

Love,

Kate

DAY OF THE DAD!

I found my new favorite genre of Zombie Movies. For a while it was fast moving light fearing Zombies ala Rage Monkeys of 28 Days Later. But now its non flesh eating French eerie zombies of doom!

Okay on a whim Beth and I rented “They Came Back”. A 2004 French movie about the undead. And it crept us out big time. We both liked the some what silly English title of the film and the premise that one day for about 2 hours the recent dead (within 10 years) came back to life clean and in good health. The people tried to reintegrate them into society but something was wrong.

The thing was, and this was the big creep factor for me. I’ve had a lot of dreams about my dad since he died (ten years ago this Friday) and he’s always been Dad in my dreams but a little off. I always know he’s dead, and he’s always strangely still, quiet and just off. And by off I mean in the exact way the people in this film are off. The dead, the undead. Beth also plagued by these dreams of my father made the same remark. In our dreams he acts like they did. And it scared us, it felt too true. We loved it.

So put it on your list if you haven’t seen it. It’s a slow pace and in French but worth it.

Now all I can do is sit here thinking about how my dad died ten years ago tomorrow morning. I just have to make it through tomorrow morning and I’ll be safe. I don’t want to here about my dad coming back from the dead tomorrow. I’ve had too many of those dreams. Beth and I dub tomorrow:

DAY OF THE DAD!!!

Or D- Day

D-Day, June 6th, the Allied invasion of Normandy

D-Day, June 6th my dad’s birthday

D-Day, Dad’s Day, Father’s Day, second Sunday in June

D-Day, Death Day, April 28, the day my dad died

Day of the Dead, November 1st. Celebration of those who have died.

Day of the Dad = Any and all of these days.

If I can make it through tomorrow I’ll be safe. If not, well have you met my dad? He’s a zombie but… I still love him, even if he creeps me out a little. Don’t worry he won't eat your flesh… we think.