here's to you, old man

driving home tonight, it hit me. hard. the loss, that realization that an influence is gone from my life, that i've learned all i can from him.

part of what's bothering me, i think, is the recent recognition of my slowly fading awareness of the spiritual world. i can't say how it happened...i just don't think about it like i used to. not that i don't believe...i just don't think about it.

he taught me well. i'll never forget what i learned while he was here, the stuff he said. "women will come and go, but friends are forever." "you can work the rest of your life, play while you can." "it's just stuff." and, of course, "...but you can't do that now!"

it's easy to forget, sometimes, that he's not there. i used to be wonder whether he'd be proud, if he could see me today. a while back i realized it didn't matter what i did, how i was, who i slept with, what trouble i got into...of course he'd be proud of me. he loved me, and no matter how deep i got, he would always smile, roll up his sleeves, and find some way to laugh at the situation.

i try to do that myself, now. shake it off, cowboy up. find a way to laugh.

so here's to you, Dad. i know you're around somewhere, and i just want to say: you raised me right. a little rough around the edges, but good job.

i can take it from here.

thank you.