Welp, we're coming up on another 4th of July. I love this holiday. What's not to love...charred meat, roman candles, Pabst Blue Ribbon, OH MY!
Two years ago I had the COOLEST 4th of July ever. My entire family met up in Bristol, TN and spent the whole weekend together. We never get to all hang together so it was truly a spectacle! The best part of the trip was when I got to go with my Dad to his 40th High School Reunion. It was hilarious - aside from the fact that everybody thought I was his wife (uh, gross).
Growing up, we absolutely lived for Dad to tell us stories from his high school days. We had a few faves we'd make him tell over and over but all of those stories involved his closest friends: Mickey Morton, Snake and Tony Morrell. July 4, 2009 I ate greasy, catered chicken and dry, scab-like macaroni and cheese with all three of them in the high school gym where my Dad played Basektball in tighty-whiteys and Converse high tops. I was in the presence of greatness and I will never, ever forget that night.
The next morning my family said their goodbyes and we all scattered back across North America. It was the last time I ever saw my Dad. He passed March 5th of the next year - 7 days after his oldest brother.
I called him on his cell while he and mom were driving back from Uncle Doug's funeral and I was joking about the High School Reunion. Mickey Morton had actually hit on me at that reunion- true story! He laughed that off and told me how much it had meant to him that I had gone. I'm not good with the gooshy stuff so I told him I only went because I was hungry and knew somebody would bring a ham casserole. That is also a true story, there was a ham casserole....and it was delicious. He passed away about 2 hours later.
After Dad died, all I kept wishing for was 5 more minutes. I just wanted a few more minutes so I could tell him everything that I couldn't when he was here. I wanted to tell him that Mickey Morton hit on me again at his funeral so when (if) Mickey ever gets to heaven, Dad owes him a black eye. I wanted to tell him that even though he wasn't always there, I knew he was always there. Most of all I wanted to tell him I loved him more than any daughter could ever love a Dad and that he had done his job beautifully. But you don't get 5 more minutes. You only get the rest of your life to tell the people that are left how much they mean to you every chance you get.
I'd say that's a pretty fair deal. Take advantage of it.
Happy 4th Everybody. Stay away from Mickey Morton!
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