A Sincere Thank YouI am not one that deliberately vets emotive circumstances in the public square. While I am, I guess as emotional as the next person, I have never really felt the need to open the doors of exposure to my personal grief.
This blog thing brought along a strange boiling-down of responsibility mixed with pain—and all totally orbits against my otherwise histrionic proclivities.
Very simply. I watched as Cancer took from me the most brilliantly-humble man I have ever known in my life. My hero mother refused to consign him to a hospice, but remained his primary caretaker at home, with intermittent hospice visits. This was primarily to allow him to be home with his pugs, Aggie and Patch, and to isolate him from those cold, clinical halls that would have most likely killed him before cancer ever would.
Also, my mom said something about her peculiar adherence to some kind of vow she took at their wedding, or something like that.
Anyway, having never ventured a real-time endeavor as Blogging also meant that I had the new experience of having to explain—very pithily—why my usual cadence of posting was slowing down. I also realized that since I had posted that he was dying, that I was now obligated to close the door of contingency when he actually left us. I did so, and then walked away from the blog, not planning to write another thing until after his funeral next Tuesday.
Then, the emails started pouring in, and I came back to the blog yesterday, and saw all the outpouring, both from people I know, and those I don't. Even a few people who disagree with this blog's blatant political bent came over pew to offer support. Amazing.
Mind you, the outpouring is unbelievable. I am completely stunned.
God Bless you all. I have read everything, but I will say, I'm going to have to read them again, as tears are a ridiculously horrid literary obstacle at this point.
I have read all your emails, and plan on answering every single one by next week. I believe I have them all saved, but if I managed to click amiss, it is just that. I omit nothing intentionally here
Lastly, I may write a short bit about my father, but he would not have wanted me to make this particular blog a posthumous transmogrification of his life. Oh, he was amazing, all right, but I refuse to embarrass him even now with what could really become a biography of the meteoric impact he had on my life, as well as the meteoric punch to my solar plexus his death dealt to me—something better left to paper and binding. I may be a lot like him, but I will spend the rest of my life lunging toward a water-mark far above my ocean of capability.
I appreciate you all, and I’ll be back. I’m warning you.