Five years ago today my life flipped onto its head...

... it has been very stubborn about flipping back over.

With apologies to Heather, I have to share a story:
Seven months ago, or just over, I was upset about a certain girl who refused to date me. I kept asking the same stupid questions that everyone asks in that sort of situation and got no real answers. And my friend Heather was wonderful at talking to me and listening to me and generally keeping my mind off of how sorry I was feeling for myself. And after one session of listening to me bitch for a while about this great girl she said, "It's not that major. I mean, it's not like your Dad's dead or anything."
[editor's note: Stephen's Dad is dead]

I still kid Heather about that comment and she threatens me every time I do.

I do miss him, though. Mom does to. Probably Megan as well, although she and I never speak of it. But it's been a rough five years in some respects. My life has been totally different from how it would've been if Dad had stayed alive. He would've insisted on some things that Mom and I agreed were a bad idea. He would've enjoyed some things and advised me on some things that I could've used the help on.
He would've loved watching his children go off to college.
He would've hated seeing Georgia beat Tennessee so many times over.
He would've enjoyed discussing philosophy, but hated discussing religion, with his son.
He would've been so proud of his daughter's voice, and dances.

I learned something new tonight about the night my father died. I was out of town, so I was spared being at the house when he passed away, or at the hospital when they tried to recessitate him. (A futile but obligatory effort.) But I learned that my Mom, while she sat outside the hospital room where the doctors were trying to bring back her husband, was hoping and even praying that they would fail. She knew that Dad would've hated this new ailment in his life. He would've hated being stuck in a hospital even more often than he was already. Hated the new lack of control over himself, and hated the burden that it placed on his family. So Mom prayed that he would stay at peace.
I think that's difficult to do.... bordering on impossile to do. Because she didn't want him to die, and yet let go for his sake anyways.
I admire that courage.

I remember when I got back in town, that going into the funeral home and seeing my father was the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever.
And I can't even begin to compare my courage to my mother's.

I love you, Mom.


and i love you too, dad....