eulogy for my dad Darrell Joe Smith, my dad, born October 22, 1956, passed away yesterday from complications associated with cirrhosis of the liver. He was a joker, a smoker, and a midnight toker. And he used to get his lovin on the run, until they took his big toe from him. Of course, he joked about that, too. Excerpt from a December text message, during his recovery period after his surgery: Im waiting for a message from my big toe from the other side... We talked about the other side sometimes, or religion more broadly, our correspondence not just reserved for song lyrics and recipes-- Bozon particle--God? he asks me, to which I respond, I need to do more research on it, I dont know much about god. You studied religion for four years and you dont know much about god? Religion is people. And their perception of god. You need to watch more TV. And eat canned meat. He gave me my sense of humor, as well as curiosity, my inclination towards reading and writing, but also my strong penchant for escaping reality through fantasy and science fiction. We often discussed hypothetical scenarios of ridiculous proportions, no one else sharing our unique perspective. We used humor as a way of coping with the darkness that the world sometimes had to offer up. As he got sicker he would say things like, Everything seems to be closing in. My skin is loose. I think I put it on backwards this morning. And he would reassure me that morning light takes the scary out of everything. I also inherited--paradoxically--my slender build and my raging lust for hyper-palatable foods from him, because if he was anything, he was a junk-food junkie. He didnt heed the doctors warnings, because, to him, life is for living, so like a blue supergiant, he burned through all his energy a lot faster than other stars his age. But he also burned a lot brighter. The last thing he said to me was Hey baby, I need to call you back tomorrow...Im feeling a little short on breath... like his fuel tank was spitting out fumes. I inherited so much from him that every time I look in the mirror I see his face. When he couldnt be with me, he made it abundantly clear how deep and unconditional his love was for me and my brother. Dad. Mein poppa. Who will I recite bene gesserit litanies for fear with? Who will text me around suppertime for tips on using goat cheese? Who will threaten to squash all my boyfriends into juice? Where have you gone to? And what is it like? I cant believe youre really gone. But Ill always remember how you reassured me, after you lost your job and moved out on your own, when I told you I was afraid of you being lonely-- With all my experiance and ability to spell I sohould be able to land a really high paying job as a senior door stop. Or maybe a speed bump. And worry not my love, as long as you are in my heart and on my mind, I can never really be alone. I want to keep him in my heart and on my mind. Lets remember that today as we bid him adieu and farewell. Even if it hurts so, so very much. He left me with encouraging words to thrive on, though: Just decide WHO AND WHAT you are and go from there. Heres a hint, youre smart, funny, and beautiful, the world could be your oyster if you play your cards right-- to which I replied, What cards do I got?! All aces! so deal SISSY! I love you and miss you so much. But I will do my best to make the world my oyster. For you.
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 20:02:56 +0000
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