The internal change from this is staggering, from the sense of loss, to the terms of our life relationship and where it fell short, where I fell short of his expectations, and where he fell short of mine, and where he exceeded mine and I excelled beyond his best hopes for me.
We were estranged for a time when I was much younger or rather- I was estranged from him by my personal choice- I don't think he gave my silence a thought - they were just my quiet hours. He would wait them out for he knew I would be back, and hopefully more mature. That was not always the case. but I did come back and as time flew on I drew closer to him and came to understand the dynamics of our love.
He was the man who knew how to love without a giving a hug. He was a fierce defender of his wife- for as much as he loved his sons and their families he loved her a thousand times more. We love her too..but we understood and I think deep down we hoped we could live up to that standard in our own lives.
Life has become serious, the colors are darker, the depth of perception increased and I do not know for how long this new view will last, and in keeping with that mood I really do not care how long it lasts.
The tacky cliché response is that my father has died and now I have become a man. Or that my father's spirit is now within me or all around me. Are there levels of consciousness we cannot see but upon which our souls can travel? Is this just another stage of mourning?
My mother lost her husband of 68 years on July 30th. Three days later she is in the basement riding out a tornado warning without him. His office is down there, that place where he paid bills, added numbers on scrap paper or used a cheap calculator. I imagine his starter pistol is in one of the drawers and empty AVON figurines of zero financial value still sitting on his desk- like the blue jalopy. I would burst into tears if I had to look at his desk right now. My mother is braver than I.
When I was hired to be a township manager it was the culmination of 25 years of hard work in government. I didn't have the coveted college degree, the pedigree of the other candidates some who had advanced degrees. What I had to offer was what my mother and father taught me by their example, not just through their words:
1. Work harder than the next guy.
2. Practice what you preach.
2. Be fair to all and treat everyone equally. Be respectful.
3. Passion. Preparation. Practice. Patience. Perseverance, Pride.
4. Sir and Ma'am are required words in conversation.
5. Don't put on airs, don't act superior to others.
6. In competition, be honorable in your losses and humble in your victories.
7. There is no such thing as a fair fight in the street- end it fast, be decisive
8. Don't fight unless you are cornered.
9. If you throw mud, you will get mud on yourself too. Throw compliments.
10. You get more bees with honey.
11. Never lose your temper.
12. Learn from your mistakes or be doomed to repeat them
13. Take responsibility for your actions.
14. When an apology is required- you apologize.
15. Be on time. There is nothing more selfish or rude than to make people wait for you.
Then there are a few life lessons I learned from the love of my life, Randi Thompson Fisher:
16. It's none of your business what other people think of you.
17. Be genuine.
18. Love more than you are loved and you will be loved more than you love.
19. Rickilliums are actually lupine- you cant name it just because it's the first time you've seen it.
20. You can't record music while sleeping in your studio chair. Either wake up or go to bed.
I don't always succeed at these life goals, but not for a lack of trying.
I mostly stopped writing when I was hired as Township and now Town Manager. Your words can be used against you in a public forum. I don't need to lose a position I worked so hard to obtain because I flamed the Internet. I am employed to run the day to day operations of a local government and I take that responsibility very seriously. My opinions can speak through my characters, through my stories, and through my songwriting.
So Ive been in my quiet hours at Mutant Mouse Chronicles and the world has gotten darker and colder and our democracy is showing all its fragilities. However brave it may appear for me to blast out editorial content, there are very good writers at prestigious publications who are already doing that kind of heavy lifting. I can make my voice heard through other methods- short stories, poetry, and especially through my music.
One year ago, my father told me I was running out of time. He was speaking from experience. I get that now. It's time to lose weight. Its time to write the stories. It's time to love my family with a quiet intensity and fierce pride.
21. It's OK to cry over someone you love and dearly miss.
Rest in Peace Sir. You were a great man and you made this world a better place. Shalom.
