In the old man’s house.

I finished my penultimate round of chemo on thursday.  Wow.  Just one to go.  On friday, Zach (brother) and I took the train up to Vermont.  We decided to stay at the old man’s house.  I slept in his room.  A little strange to be in the room, in fact on the bed, where he took his life.  Though not as strange as I’d have imagined.  I woke up early in the morning, a misty vermont spring morning, to these beautiful little daffodils on the window sill.  No ghosts here at all.

We met this morning with a women from the crematorium to sign some paper work.  I’ll probably go and visit him tomorrow, before they burn him up.  There were a few things that I didn’t get a chance to say.

I spent a good part of the day in his shop.  Cleaning it up a bit.  He clearly hadn’t been in there for a while.   I’m working on a new bar design.  The “billsam,” naturally.  Pictures tomorrow.  It would have pleased him to no end to have some action in the shop..  some local classic rock station playing on the radio.

I’m finding, quite naturally, that my memories are all fond.  We’re eating.. we’re drinking.  We’re doing the things in his house that he used to love doing WITH us.  I find myself wishing he could join in.

The mint has taken over in the old garden spot.  Having a mint julep.  That’s me at about 2 and a half in the morning with Bigsam.

0 Replies to “In the old man’s house.”

  1. Ez, sorry you lost your dad. It’s not just all the things that you didn’t get a chance to say; it’s also all the questions that you haven’t even thought to ask yet. Pass my condolences along to Zach too; I don’t know his address.

    That’s a great old photo of you and your dad! That’s the handsome, youthful guy that I remember. He was an interesting and talented man; you and Zach have inherited many good qualities from him.

    Keep up the fight! Get well!

  2. I have so many great memories of hanging out with you and billsam in his shop, attempting to help with various projects, with classic rock blaring on that old stereo. And a very distinct memory of him make fried chicken for all of us in the kitchen. Pancakes, too.

    It was a beautiful, late spring day yesterday and I sat in the park for a while, thinking of Billsam, that warm smile of his and the great, big laugh that always filled the room. Hold onto all those fond memories. My best to you, Zach, and Sam.

  3. It’s funny. My dad died not long ago and while there are plenty of bad memories, I only think of him fondly and realized only after he died that some of my best traits are from him. That makes me smile.

  4. Ezzie… sorry about your dad…..

    I have a great memory of hanging out there with you and playing with the wolf. 🙂
    We musta been like 9 or so.

    Love you. <3

  5. Oh man… the laugh. I remember how startling it was at first… that such a big sound could come out of such a little guy… and that such a little guy could eat SO MUCH food… I have really warm memories of enormous meals around his kitchen table and wandering around his shop amazed and mostly mystified by what the both of you could produce from all those beautiful old tools.

    So much love to you and Zach and Sam.

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