The Closest Thing to Elvis

Dreams can be cruel.  Especially the ones that feel so real that you could swear that you were there.  You can smell the smells…feel the touches…sense the presence of people you interact with…only to wake and realize…it was all just a dream.  This past week…almost every night I've dreamt of my dad and I being together.  Going to a baseball game…watching football on TV…going fishing…and each one felt so…real.  And every morning, I'd wake to the silence of pitch black and realize…I'm in my house in my bed.  In a groggy, blind stupor my heart would sink into the pit of my stomach as I realize he's gone.  It's like losing him all over again and I want to shout to the heavens and curse…why??   Why my dad?!?!  Why is he gone when so many others who don't deserve longevity walk around without a single ailment?!  

It's no wonder I've been dreaming of my dad, though.  Today is his birthday.  He would have been 60 years old.  I would give anything to have him here.  But all I have are memories…and dreams.  I try…I try my hardest to remember the good times and the things he taught me…I try to remember all the good he brought into my life and my weird little world.  But this day will always tug at my heart.

I miss you, Old Man.  And I would like to think that my dreams are your way of reaching out to me.  I am doing fine.  I'm carrying on the way you would want me to.  

Those who knew my dad, knew that he was a funny guy.  He'd always be cracking subtle jokes and picking on people to tickle their sense of humor.  And although I know he's shining amongst the brightest stars…he still makes me laugh.  One of the funniest things I ever heard about him was when my mom was talking about a candid picture that had been snapped at my grandmother's old house in Denver Harbor (I believe).  He has a quirky smile that's raised to one side and he's rockin' fat burns that I myself would never be able to grow no matter how long I might go without shaving.  He's got a velvet shirt unbuttoned to his chest and has a coy look on his face.  It's without a doubt my favorite picture of dad.  Anyways…years ago when I asked my mom about it, she fondly recalled when they were young and how he would randomly show her that picture and say to her, "You know you only married me cause I'm the closest thing you could find to Elvis!"  Even near the end he would say that to her to make her smile.  :)  Those of us close to him knew how in his later years he'd…well…lost some of that swagger but talking to him you'd still think he was "6 feet of swinging steel and sex appeal"…as he used to like to refer to himself.

So here's to you, Old Man…one day…when I have the strength…I'll do a proper portrait of you…but for now…this is my Closest Thing to Elvis