The Flower Anniversary

Four years ago today, I moved across country to the place I now call my hometown. It was a transitional time in my life made even more complicated by losing Dad just two weeks prior to the move. I had already planned on coming out before we lost him. In fact, the last Father's Day gift I ever gave him in person was a set of stationary and two books of stamps he could use to write me after I'd headed out west. He was no stranger to letters to and from Oregon, as his brother had lived in Salem over half his life, and both his sons had settled in the northwest in the '90s. So, to say goodbye to his youngest and see her off to a different life didn't carry with it any alien expectations.

He died two days prior to Father's Day. A rather nasty last practical joke, really. Now, every June I endure elated pitchmen screaming about the latest golf and hunting accoutrement that is "sure to bring a smile to Dad's face this year on his special day." I wouldn't be so sure there, Mr. Popeil. That tinny crap wouldn't have made him smile when he was alive, and your chances of bringing a grin to his face now have significantly lessened, I'm afraid.

So, it was with an angry, heavy heart that I set off in the Buick to a new home and a future that would be so happy there was no way at the time to have predicted it. My brother's family kindly opened their home and lives to me to help me get on my feet. I wasn't in any stable place to appreciate their sacrifices at the time, but distance and much healing work has sharpened my hindsight and brought some poor choices into focus. Most have been rectified, others were lessons hard learned, including an affair with a rather nasty individual who had the looks of a Playgirl centerfold and the proclivities of a snaggletoothed pimp in a C-grade Jack the Ripper movie. Ahh well, who would we be if we weren't the product of our more interesting mistakes?

And so it is, four years later and a complete turnaround of fortunes. Four jobs, two boyfriends, one husband, one stepdaughter, five music concerts, gallons of coffee, and countless new friends later, it's a good place to be. Not just Oregon, but the big HERE. Here is where I want to be, with the people I want to be with, doing what I want to do. And that's sure to bring a smile to Dad's face....