How Powerful a 2″ Urn Can Be
I turned to turn my night lamp off, as I do every night. I hesitated this night, to see a 2″ urn, that I have had there for the last five years. I left the light on and just starred. I you really in there? Because I feel and hear you at times when I falter in my decision makings and the worth of another person’s beliefs.
A lifetime of memories, all in one little marble urn. If I started thinking of all the memories, lessons you taught, the generosity given to others, and the thoughtfulness you brought, to this 2″ ern, would be up to my 8′ ceilings and would fill my studio apartment. You and I did the most grandiose things in life. You made sure we didn’t go without and gave us the best. When push came to shove, you showed me what peace and love were. A gorgeous sunrise while fishing, a sunset with seagulls eating left debris. Telling me some people are like gulls, they wait so patiently. Sunsets of fire and making the day’s end. When yours was just beginning, to make us have what we lived, the best of everything that to be had.
I remember Valentines Day, after working from 2 am to 2 pm, you would come up the steep driveway with three red hearts in your hand. Without fail for more 20 years, you showed up for your family to give a heart full of candy and would say, “I don’t have one Valentine, I have 3, that I love. I always eat the middle carrier man, in the box of Whitman’s. I wonder if that had a meaning behind it, that it was my very best.
Oh, this little 2” urn doesn’t hold much of you, but the abundance of life you have given me. I miss you so much, not a day goes by where your values you gave me, and worth of myself is not tested and are instilled in me like a burning stake, that will always leave your imprint of lifes teachings.
All our shell collecting and rock collecting at the beach. The long talks about life and what it is and how it should be when you knew I was stoned. You would take out two glasses filled them with your vintage of wine, great cheese, and Italian bread and the interesting stories would begin like a movie is how it played out. You would talk to me about life, and it would resonate more sharply in my mind. You knew that it would, because to me at that moment, my mind was in another dimension and I would hang on to every word said, you knew it was to blow my mind, It was done in your way so I “I wouldn’t leave a thought” you said, behind. All your lessons that I learned, stories you told, are forever branded in my mind, my heart, my soul.
Teaching me to drive a stick-shift in the car I wanted and loved. Jerking the car, you yelling at me, “Let out the clutch easy, I said damn it”, You got out a half mile away, shut the door and said, “Kid you’re on your own” I need a drink driving with you; do it, and I will see you at home. I watched you walk from the top of the hill of Colony Drive, shaking your head like I never would do it, but did, and was home without a mishap to your surprise. I am smiling as I type this. It’s all about the little things. You gave me so many of them, that now pop into my mind.
You hid an Irish Setter puppy, I wanted for so long, from mom, we would sneak out to spend time with him; take him along. I think you wanted “Big Red” as much as I did. All our little secrets still remain. The sarcastic faces made, behind the families back; I would be laughing, and you would walk away straight-faced as if I was the quack.
So this little “shit – ass” urn, I laugh at, because it’s so small and to be so grand. It’s just a reminder, you’re still with me, your heart, soul, teachings, and loyalty as a father to his daughter, and your everlasting love.
You will always be my hero. Always in my heart. Always be the first man I ever loved, that showed me life and it’s counter parts.
Forever and one day,
Your Bitchen Phoenix (and I know you would have loved that)
“When somebody loves you, it’s no good unless they love you all the way”!
I remember that day like it was here, this very moment; singing on the top of our lungs. Floating in my pool, seeing who can out sing who, not caring what we sounded like, it was the words that made the difference, then the tune.
I love you, Daddy.