Happy Retirement, Dad!

My dad's best friend Dennis retired this week.  And I cried.  I cried because I was so happy for him and his wife.  But I also cried because I was jealous.  Not that I wasn't retiring - I am much too young for that :).  But jealous that my dad never got to.  Jealousy isn't pretty, but I'm owning it.

If you're new here,  you can read here and here about my dad's untimely departure. 

I talked about my dad's friendship with Dennis when I spoke at his funeral.  They were like "peas and carrots" I said,  "they just go together".  They started working at UPS around the same time.  They both married young and had kids and worked hard and stayed married when so many were divorcing.  They played softball with their buddies in short 80's shorts and rode Harley's together. They probably drank too much beer and and got into some trouble along the way too.  Dennis was the brother my dad never had.  He was super tall to my dad's average/short height but they both sported mustaches.  Dennis was a little more country, more of a hunter, and more religious.  But they balanced each other and we all became extended family.  And they both wore UPS brown for more years than they didn't. 

When my dad died, I of course cried for us kids losing our father, I cried for my mom losing her partner,  I cried for my nanny losing her son, I cried for the guys traveling with my dad for what they witnessed and I cried for Dennis losing his best friend.  I've also always wondered how Dennis felt about not being with my dad on that fateful trip.  They usually went on motorcycle trips together but Dennis wasn't on this one.

Anyways, Dennis retired from UPS this week.  He deserves this so much.  He has worked loyally for so long and it's his turn to kick back and enjoy life.  His wife posted a throw back picture on Facebook of Dennis in his UPS browns  and I loved it.  And I cried.  I cried happy tears for them and I cried sad and jealous tears for my mom and dad.  Although Dennis and my dad looked nothing alike, the picture reminded me so much of my dad.  I'm sad and pissed that my dad never got to retire - to kick back and enjoy life.

But that's the way the cookie crumbled.  Stupid deer.

So I'm saying "Happy Retirement, Dad!" - if you hadn't already, I'm guessing you'd be retiring today along with Dennis.   I'm going to sit in my driveway tonight with the girls dressed up while trick-or-trreaters come by and have a beer instead of sitting in your driveway and having a beer with you to celebrate.  Cheers!

This picture is when my niece Maddie was about the age my daughter Ellis is now.  Maddie is 14 now.  Dad was driving through Tyler (where my sister lived at the time) and pulled over to see Maddie.  I guess the truck scared her and Dad was making pouty faces with her. 

Random Rants

I haven't blogged in a while.  Life - ya know?  Busy is an understatement.  I keep ideas for blog entries on my phone.  When a brilliant idea hits me, I make a note in my phone because lack of sleep guarantees I will not remember if I don't write it down.  Lately, all my notes are not conducive to an entire blog entry, so here are my random rants in no particular order:

• I'm pretty sure the profile of serial killers and terrorists includes using single ply toilet paper.  I'm fairly certain world peace could be achieved by distributing 2-ply paper to all earthlings.  I accidentally bought some single ply recently.  The frugal side of me said we'd just deal with it until it ran out.  The spoiled side of me (also known as Jade) said "no we won't".  I'm glad the spoiled side of me put his foot down.

• The seat recline feature should be removed from all airplane seats.  Especially for the jerk faces sitting in the exit row or economy comfort seats.  You have more leg room dude - WHY DO YOU NEED TO LAY IN MY LAP AS WELL?!?!  Y'all, I seriously almost made a scene on a plane recently, however my hippie/zen/oily self refrained.  But seriously, it's not cool when I can't even open my laptop on my lap tray because you are leaning so far back. 

• I posted on Facebook recently about our scare with Lucy choking on a foreign object and presumably swallowing it.  Don't even get me started on my utter disdain for Dell Children's Hospital here in Austin.  I know they do amazing things for very sick kids.  I have a friend who had to experience the unthinkable with her baby and only has great things to say about Dell even though her outcome was tragic.  However, we've been to the ER there 4 times (FOUR TIMES!) in the two years we've been parents.  None of those trips were good experiences.  First, there's always a ridiculous wait. Like 4-6 hours is our average.  Second, you are scrutinized like a child abuser - they ask you the same questions over and over.  Twenty different people rotate through your room asking you to repeat your story and asking condescending questions.  I get it, there are people that beat their babies.  They should be taken out back and shot.  They are the worst scum of the earth, those people that hurt kids.  But I'm not one of them.  Dehydration while sick (Ellis' last trip) or swallowing a foreign object hardly seem like abuse scenarios.  Grrr.  Anyways.   This most recent trip included major scare tactics and unnecessarily freaking me the heck out about Lucy's prognosis.  I know there is a certain degree of CYA going on, but for the love!  This is my baby.  Making me think surgery was necessary when it so clearly was not is not cool.  Anesthesia is no joke for anyone, especially a baby.  And had I not pushed back, questioned them and self-advocated, we most likely would have had the surgery

• Our new neighbors are not nice people. They recently taped a rude letter to our front door. The Scorpio in me immediately typed out a venomous response and shared it with my friends. That made me feel better. My letter was good y'all. Put those old, crotchety boogers in their place. If you've known me for long, you know how much I love writing a letter. I'm pretty good with words when I've been wronged. But I haven't given it to them. I'm taking a lesson from my sister here. She recently got her feelings hurt by someone that should know better and didn't respond. SHE DIDN'T RESPOND. AT ALL. That is so not like me and so hard for me to consider. But I'm trying. It is taking every oil in my arsenal of feel good, happy hippie oils to not respond. A week passed and I considered watering my response down. Another few days have passed and I think I'm over it. So I will not give them a letter. As my sister said, "I'm zen damn it!" If it kills me, I will be zen. But I might print out a picture of a big middle finger and tape it in my kitchen window that faces their kitchen window.  

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That's all for now. 

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