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

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.