Tag Archives: Mom

I’m Back

Sorry, I was in Memphis at the Comic Expo and when I wasn’t there I was relaxing at my Mom’s.  My Mom lives about an hour and a half outside Memphis in a little town called Saulsbury.  She’s somewhere in the area where all the Walking Tall stuff happened, but not sure the exacts of it and really never cared enough to find out.  She lives in the clicked one red light town.  She’s on part of the land that my Grand Father, her Father, once had his farm on.  When he died it was divided up between his two sons and three daughters.  I love it there.  I can sit on the porch and see rabbits and groundhogs and deer.  In fact, when we were coming back from the Expo on Sunday we turned to drive up towards my Mom’s home and there were a doe and her two babies standing in front of us.  They were considerate enough to hang around long enough for me to park and try to get a pic of them, even though I couldn’t get too close.

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Memphis Comic Expo

memphis-comic-con

This weekend, Oct 22-23 I’ll be in Memphis for the Memphis Comic Expo.  I’ll be there with my partner on Skye Pilot Larry Guidry.

One of the nice things about going to any convention in the Memphis area is that my Mom lives about an hour outside the city, so I can skip hotel costs.  Plus it gives me a chance to see my Mom for a bit also.

I’m excited to be going to this show for one simple reason.  Most Cons nowdays are only partly comic book related, in fact, the comic book part of them is usually the smallest part.  Media guests are what draws the crowds and what cons like to feature.  I’m not complaining here, it’s just how it is.  But this con is just about only comic creators.  From what I’ve seen there are some wrestling guests, but everyone else has their foot solidly in the making of comic books.

George Perez, Peter David, The Hernandez Brothers, Peter Bagge…the list goes on and on.  Some really influential names in the history and development of the comic book industry.  And some of my favorite creators.

So this will be different for me.   Instead of a table set up next to people that have nothing to do with creating comic books I should be among comic book creators.  I’m looking forward to seeing how I do at a show like this as opposed to some of the others.

If you’re in the Memphis area you should come check this con out.  And stop by and say hi.

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Father’s Day

My Dad died about nine years ago.  There’s not a day that goes by that I can’t honestly say I don’t think of him.  I never knew I would miss him this much.  A few years ago I wrote this post on Facebook and re-posted it again this year.  I think this sums up anything new I could write so I’m going to post it here also.  To those whose Fathers are still alive, call them and wish them a happy Father’s Day.  I know I wish I could.

I first posted this a few years ago and it came up on my memories recently, but with Father’s Day tomorrow I wanted to re post it one more time. I don’t know if I can find anything different to write about my Dad that I don’t include here.

MY DAD

It’s not like I think of him more on this day than any other. I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t have at least one thought of my Dad, who passed away from cancer six years ago. Something will happen during each day will make me think of him. I can be shopping at the book store and I’ll see a book and my mind thinks how that would be a perfect Father’s Day or Christmas present for him, but of course I don’t have to buy it. Or when I bought my Ipad when it first came out I imagined him saying something about my need to buy the newest gadgets as soon as it came out.

You hear people say that their Mom or Dad is their best friend. My Dad was never my best friend. He was my Dad. I didn’t want him to be my best friend. I needed him to be my Dad. Even after I had supposedly grown up I wanted him as a Dad, not a best friend. I wanted to be able to call him up with a problem and get his advice. I knew if things got bad I always had a place to go back to. I have plenty of friends, but I only had one Dad.

My Dad was, shall we say, vertically challenged. He was probably 5’ 4”, shorter than my Mom. Of course that was always open to comment. He liked to say that dynamite came in small packages, I would tell him so does silly putty. But when I think of him I always imagine myself looking up at him, no matter how tall I grew over him.

He continued to surprise me throughout his life. A lifelong Republican, and worse a Nixionian, while I grew up he came to admire Bill Clinton. A veteran of over twenty years, he would get so mad about the war in Iraq and the men and women sent over there he would literally work himself into tears.

I got my love of reading from my Dad. He always had a book and was reading some part of the day. After my parents retired, he would go shopping with my Mom and while she was in the stores shopping he would find a bench to sit and read. I remember more than a few times walking through the mall to find him sitting on a bench with a book while my Mom was inside the store shopping. I can say that I am a feminist because of my Dad. Chores or duties in our home weren’t assigned because one was the Mom or one the Dad. My Dad handled the cooking the last twenty years of his life so much that after he died my Mom said she had to learn how to cook all over again.

One of the things my Dad regretted the most in his life I think was that he didn’t graduate high school. He left an abusive family situation and joined the Navy before he received his diploma. He may not have finished school, but my Dad was one of the smartest people I have ever known. He taught himself so much over the years, that there were few subjects he didn’t have some knowledge of. As much as I’ve tried to emulate him, there are some subjects that just baffle me and when something in car goes wrong I miss the chance to call him and explain the problem and have him tell me what the solution is.

And what I remember most about my Dad was how much he loved my Mom. Oh, I’m not saying there weren’t bad moments. They could fight. Oh boy, could they fight. But in the end it didn’t matter. They loved each other so much. When my Dad was in the hospital dying I overheard my Mom talking to the priest and she said “He’s my right arm, no, he’s both my arms, he’s my whole body.”

My Dad was one of those people that never realized what an impact he had on others. If he had seen the people that stopped by his hospital room when he was dying, from family that came everyday and worked shifts so he wouldn’t be alone at night, to nurses who had dealt with him only weeks or months before wanting to stop by and say their goodbyes he would have been astonished.

I’ll never forget one incident while we sat in the hospital room. There must have been about twenty people in the room, from my Mom, my brother and sister, my niece and nephew, uncles and aunts, cousins. It was a full room. Everyone was sitting around talking in different groups while he laid on his hospital bed. My niece got up and walked over the his bed and sat down next to him. Conversations were lowering, people were turning, as she took his hand in hers and sat there, talking to him and holding his hand. The room had went completely quiet as everyone watched.

My Dad adored my niece and nephew. I’m not saying he didn’t love his own children, but he held a special place for the two of them in his heart and thought the sun rose and set on them.

I could spend pages and pages talking about my Dad and what he meant and still means to me. Even though I don’t send him a card anymore I wanted to write something about him for Father’s Day. They say that loss gets better over time and while it might be true that the hurt isn’t quite as fierce there isn’t a day that goes by I wish he wasn’t still here.

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