Legacy

Post number 55. 130 fans. Not doin' too badly I suppose.

Thank you to all the fans and followers and those that read this by way of those fans or that have stumbled upon my writin' through some chance of fate.

Not in a chipper mood today. I'm in need of a vacation. I been workin' seven days a week since October with the exception of a few sick days. I haven't had a real vacation in about two years. I been fortunate enough to take a weekend here and there in the last two years. I'm takin one this weekend, gonna be headin' to Austin. I love Austin. Damn fine town.

I'm tired beyond tired. I was sick the other weekend for Easter. I kept sayin' I was fine but I felt pretty terrible for almost a full week. Food poisonin' I think. My June was worried. She worries about me. She thought I might need to go see a doc. I got no insurance. Got no money. Can't see the doc without those. So, I tell her I'm fine. But the thought crosses my mind, what if it ain't food poisonin'? What if I picked up some bug my system can't kick out?

Dad'll be sixty in July. God damned sixty. That's gettin' up there, boy. I know what happens if he picks up sumthin' his system can't shake. I've thought it out in my head a few times after my grandmother passed. I know where to bury him. I know what to bury him in. I know what life'll be like after. I know it'll be hell on me and my mom. I'll prolly get pretty drunk. And after a bit of sadness and self-loathin' I'll get up and handle my business like a man does.

I'll take care of all the technical stuff along with my siblings. I'll help my mom as best I can with anything she needs. I show her I'm here and so are her grandbabies and that there's still lots left to do. I'll give her every ray of hope I can afford to give. I'll carry every sad soul that way if I got to.

I know I'll most likely have to speak at the funeral. I know that it'll damn near kill me but I'm best suited for it. I dunno exactly what I'll say. I'll say sumthin' bout the year he was born, growin' up in Iowa, runnin' a successful business, his kids and grand kids, all the stuff everybody expects to hear. But that ain't all there is to any man. That ain't all there is to him.

He's a gruff man. Hard edged and mostly meaner than a lotta folks would like him to be. Once he made a grown woman cry 'cause he was fussin' 'bout sumthin' someone else did. He also beat up a man half his age for bein' disrespectful. When that man pulled a knife on him, he took the knife from him and put it to the young man's throat, just to show him he could.

But he's got one helluva sense of humor. Told my sister once the dark pellets the rabbit left behind were chocolate Easter eggs, it was really rabbit poop, he smushed her fingers together when she picked up the treats.

He's confident about what he can do. He still out works his employees half his age. He motivates them without bendin' to their demands. Still manages to be fair to 'em that way too. He never has let anyone make him feel like less than what he knows himself to be.

Even with all that confidence he's still insecure. I remember him talkin' to a twelve year old me about how he felt his mother didn't love him. How else do you explain her throwin him out as a teenager? How she looked after his lil brother much more than him? Always, "Where's Joe? Is he eating okay? Does he need money?" He has often told me he could've done better if he'd had a real education. He second guesses himself all the time and jokes about bein' a dumb farm boy.

But I know he's a smart man. Maybe he can't get online or program a VCR (Does anybody still know what the hell that is?) but he's always been as smart as I needed him to be. He has always said things in a way that make sense in such a way that they could only come from the mouth of a prophet. He is the wisest man I've ever known.

He's made a lot of mistakes and still does but he's one helluva man. I will always support him in all he does. He's my father. His legacy is evident in all the lives he's touched and all the things he's done and all the stories we have to tell about him. The man is the stuff of legends.

And me? I'm his son. What will they say about me when I'm dead and gone? If I died today what would people say?
He was a talented writer. Maybe. I guess at least those 130 people would agree with that. He was a hard worker. I suppose. I could always do more. Got a two-year degree and did nuthin' with it. Most definately. Enjoyed life. Hell no. Was far too hard on himself and couldn't enjoy much of anything.

In truth, I ain't done much of nuthin'. I write. So, I got a pile of half finished stories and poems. An unpublished book.

What's that mean for me? I'm hardly a legend like my father. I haven't done a quarter of what he's done.

Guess I better not die any time soon. Can't be any bugs that my system can't get rid of. Can't be any injury I can't recover from. I got too much work to do.