So here I am on the home stretch of what I have started to call Triple Threat Week, and so far so good.
The reasons I call it Triple Threat Week (henceforth to be catchily abbreviated as 3TW) are, of course, threefold:
- June 21 is my birthday, if you read my post from last year you will know that it’s my second birthday away from Boodles.
- Yesterday was Father’s Day, again my second one without my sweetie around.
- My Daddy died 10 years ago on June 17, and we buried him on my birthday.
So as you can see, they’re not just three separate things that happen on the same week, but they are linked together. The good news is that I’m doing OK with it.
I’m in a reasonably positive place this week because I got my driver’s license back last Friday (I know I owe you a part 3 on that story, forgive me, I will get it posted) and I am loving the freedom again. It’s like Joni Mitchell said, you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone. My depression is reasonably under control with my Effexor. Working at night is great, I especially appreciate it when I hear all the complaining from the day people about stupid management. The DOJ tend to leave me alone on third shift.
I miss my Dad every day. In a lot of ways he was my rudder, and when I lost him in 2000 was when my faith in God and myself started to slip and my “dark night of the soul” started. Even though his death wasn’t unexpected, he had battled heart trouble for 20 years, it was sudden. He and Mom were living in Fresno, I was in LA (a four hour drive). Dad went by himself for a doctor’s appointment and had a heart attack in the lobby of the medical building. None of us had a chance to say good-bye. One thing that has haunted me all these years is that Tania told me that he called for me the night before he died, but I was working. What I wouldn’t give to have a second chance at that phone call.
As far as the birthday and Father’s Day went, it was OK. Harley and Iris are with their grandkids in Michigan so it was just Mom and I, so it was low key but that was fine with me. I got cards and a couple of video greetings from Boodles, and that was way fun.
This one is Number 52, and I’m slowly getting used to the idea that I’m getting older. Being on the other side of 50 is not really old by today’s standards, but between the way my body groans at the end of a work week and that fact that the cursed AARP won’t stop sending me invitations to join, I am constantly being reminded that the spring chicken days are behind me.
I always figured that I could consider myself young as long as I was younger than the President and the guy who plays James Bond, now neither is true. This is partly my fault: I voted for Obama (age 48) over the reliably older John McCain, and I have been an enthusiastic supporter of Daniel Craig’s (age 42) interpretation of 007.
So there it is. Lots more could (and will) be said but, all things considered, 3TW could have been worse. I have hope, more than a lot of people do, and when that fails I can just pop in my Casino Royale DVD.