Today my dad would have turned 89 years old, except he died of a massive coronary in 1979 at the age of 61. He never got to meet either of my children. He never got to see the Red Sox win the World Series.
Blair Jay Whitham, a large man, had a personality that was larger than most other folks. He filled a room with his presence, his voice, his laughter, and his stories. He made many friends and I loved seeing him at parties. Surrounded by people, he was relaxed, fun, joking, playful, and irreverent. Being a kid, I'm sure I missed out on most of the real fun. Although, we do know some quite juicy tidbits.
Dad was not an easy father. He was gruff and angry a lot of the time. Mostly impatient, I guess, with things that were not orderly or perfect. He was organized, efficient, held himself to high standards, and had a quick temper that flared when we kids were noisy, messy, or in some other way disappointing. I was mostly afraid of him, but I knew he loved me and was proud of me. After his death, in fact, I found a drawer full of newspaper clippings--reviews in the Boston papers of the plays I'd been in. When delighted with one of us, he'd say, "I'm proud of you." When disappointed, he would growl with sarcasm, "I'M PROUD OF YOU." Clearly saying he was not.
A dear friend of my dad and mum, Adore (short for Eleanor, and pronounced with emphasis on the A) Bice, who was at many of those snapper parties in the '50s and '60s, celebrated her 90th birthday a few days ago on the 21st. I'll never forget my dad singing out, to the tune of Edelweiss (Sound of Music): "A-dore Bice, A-dore Bice." I understand he didn't come up with it, but he sure kept it alive and took the credit! I still know Adore and Ken's wonderful boys and Ky, Miranda, and I spent many a 4th of July with their grandchildren in Malibu.
I saw Adore in late August. She came from Arizona to visit her son Tim. Dave was down from Fremont to join us. Dave's daughter Emily came over from UCLA. Adore took me aside, held my hand, and asked me questions about how Kyle died and how I was doing. I showed my slide show of Kyle, even though she doesn't see so well now. A few days later, Adore left a message on my cell phone. "Cindy, I just want you to know how proud I am of how you are coping with the tragedy of losing Kyle, and I know your parents would be so proud of you."
I am really hoping that there is a somewhere, up there, out there, where Dad has introduced Ky to snappers and that Ky is getting a real kick out of knowing his irrepressible grandfather. And if so, I know that Dad is proud of Kyle, because he sure loved a good set of brains and a good sense of humor. And I hope that Adore doesn't join them for a long long time.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
I love you,
Cindy Gayle
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3 comments:
Oh Cyn, as if my sinuses aren't clogged enough from these fires.
Now you have me crying again.
However, it is a cry filled with love,loss, and more love.
When Daddy first died he use to give me lots of signs. I survived through those years because of those signs.
One cold morning, when I was crying, worrying about Mom, and walking around the fields where Dad walked I felt all warm as if I was being hugged.
One night in Florida I heard his voice after a rough night with Mom. It came to me waking me from a deep sleep saying, "everything will be alright." (yes, the same words I can hear Bob Marley sing a million times and still cry. Who will ever forget D's rendition)
That same night Cheryle was sleeping in the house and said "it was so strange, I woke in the night and felt as if Blair was there." We had both looked at the clock it was at the same hour.
The third thing that I clearly remember is waking up one morning at the time Dad would have been leaving for work. He always would come in and kiss me goodbye before heading to Brookline. I woke one morning and my room was filled with the powerful fragrance of Old Spice. I always loved the smell Dad left behind and I knew that morning he had been there.
It's been many years since I have had any signs but they were strong enough at that time to give me faith that the soul does not die.
So Dad , Kyle, and all the rest of our departed love ones, we are here celebrating Blair's Earthday in cyberspace.
I love you Sis.
funny. one day, a couple of months ago, but after Ky, i smelled Old Spice too. can't remember where or when. but out of the blue and in an odd place. remember thinking it was Ky. would be nice if it had been Dad trying to help us out.
....love you both.... : )
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