On the drive to dinner tonight, I felt a twinge of appreciation for my dad being around. I have memories of him, most of them good, and almost all heart-wrenching after 1993. “Huey Lewis and the Snooze” as Sid calls them came into the conversation. I admitted that I have one of the albums, and (Nerd Alert!) I still listen to it. My dad and I listened to that group on our monthly road trips to Idaho. A lot of 80’s music reminds me of the good years we had together before I became a free-thinking teenager, and we could be in the same room for longer than an hour without human buffers.
I have memories of him.
Little Guy has a lot of memories of his dad right now. According to my grief counselor and a girlfriend who lost her father at 6 years old, those memories of his will fade, unless I keep them fresh in his mind. Everyone has told me to only remember the good things about Ex and to forget all the rest, especially when it comes to Little Guy.
Maybe that’s what I should do with the memories of my dad. He’s still alive, but he won’t speak to me, so it counts more as a non-relationship. I should remember the good things, and forget the rest. After all, life’s too short to bother with holding on to anything but the good.