Saturday, June 17, 2006

My Loss Is Captain Hook's Gain


Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," and Happy Father's Day!

If you're just joining us, we celebrate all that is various and wonderful in the universe of religious beliefs.

For instance, some people pray to God the Father, and some people pray to God the Mother. In our book, whatever floats your boat and gets it over the falls is A-OK. Even God the Buzzard.

My dad was a wonderful dad. His dad was a wonderful granddad. If they had hooked arms and started strolling across the Potomac, right on top of the water like Jesus, I wouldn't have blinked an eye.

Dad died in 2004.

When my dad was dying, he told me he saw Peter Pan standing in the doorway of his hospital room.

That's how I know that Dad went to Neverland to fight pirates. He must love it there.

I didn't argue with the mega-church sister when she insisted on the big evangelical funeral and burial of Dad's ashes in Mom's plot in the Cemetery of the Confederate Dead. Because Dad's doing the aerial thing with Tinker Bell, and no amount of promising that he's gone to The Lord (and I won't) will change that.

I asked for a fistful of Dad's ashes. I took them to the cemetery where Granddad is buried. If you've ever tried to dig a hole in the Allegheny Mountains with a plastic spoon, you'll know that I wasn't very successful at interring Dad's ashes atop Granddad's grave.

Nevertheless, I do hop on by that cemetery sometimes and heave a pretty bouquet of silk flowers on the spot. It's purely a ceremonial gesture. I know Dad's putting it to Captain Hook and flirting with Tiger Lily.

Granddad's probably not in Neverland. He'd be happier fixing something that was broken, especially if he had to look into a microscope to do it.

I've never been a great beauty, or had money I didn't have to budget. I've never been the best at anything I tried. But when it came to a father and a grandfather, I top the heap, I lap the field, I help the other breathless climbers to the summit.

My dad and my granddad were superior human beings, treasure of the rarest form. Nothing Captain Hook has squirreled away in the hold of his ship can compare to them.

In fact, I'd bet the most recent foster kitten that Hook's got his hands full with the new kid in Neverland. Second star to the right. Straight through till morning.

Love you, Dad.

FROM ANNE
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS

3 comments:

Autumn said...

I enjoyed this post. I think your dad and grand dad are there on some level knowing you are thinking of them in a way that they would like to be remebered. I lost my dad in 2004 also and I know how hard it is for me to think of him not being here for fathers day.

Hecate said...

Your dad raised a wonderful daughter. My dad wasn't a nice person and he had a very difficult time trying to love me. But he taught me to love writing as a craft and to always be willing to call "bullshit" when I ran into bullshit.

Today is my son's first Father's Day as a father. I think he's going to be a very good dad.

Having Peter Pan come to guide you to the Summerlands is a very, very good sign.

May the Goddess guard all dads.

buddy don said...

i luv the way ye putt thangs. yer daddy dun razed im up at lease on verr fine daughter.