Goodbye To You
December 20th started as most mornings do. My alarm went off, and I got up. That's where it changed. I drove to Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery. My mom, brothers, myself (and a few others) sat silently as 2 officers in the Navy folded an American Flag, and set it on a podium with the urn containing my Dad's ashes. In the distance, another officer played "Taps" on the bugle. It was eerie. The horn bounced off of every headstone in the place and made its way out to sea. This was finality. This was closure. This was respect. My Dad deserved nothing less than the most honorable ceremony.
Now just a week later, so much has passed. Most notably, I had my first Christmas without my father. I don't know how to explain my thoughts surrounding this, but I missed 1 thing in particular. My Dad had the best talent when it came to guessing his presents. You could wrap a super soaker in a box filled with pennies and cans of baked beans, and he'd be able to tell you what brand of backed beans were in the box, and the color of the super soaker. This Christmas we didn't get to see him guess his gifts, but I know he would have been right on, just like every year.
As 2007 comes to a close, I think of all the good times I had. Free trip to Japan, becoming an uncle, buying my first new car. But the death of my father overshadows it all. I'm sorry 2007, but you have sucked.
2008, I look foward to meeting you.