Internal workings of a mind in process.

The premise of this blog has been pretty clearly defined for any dedicated reader. I have two goals. To be able to order the chaos of my life with the 'Rent and express the humor I find in the moments of the slow sad theatre of the morose that is my life. Secondly I blog to spread the word of the strange and bizarre beings that like to drift into my magnetic, if invisible, pull and share a brief flaring light of WTFWT and then move along into their orbit leaving me a nugget of crazy to mull over and share with you.

What I was unprepared for was that recent tales of the 'Rent have made me think of my male 'Rent, a lot. I spent a great deal of time after he passed putting him on a pedestal, and the reality is that he will probably remain there in many ways, but he was more and less than that. He was a man. A man who stayed when I think most men would have left. He put his family above all else, and had more than his fair share of odd duck behavior.

Believe it or not, remembering THOSE moments have given me more comfort as I age than all of the other thoughts and memories I have had of him over the years. I like to remember he was human, and made mistakes. He loved fiercely and laughed infrequently and taught me the profound importance of human interaction and love above all else. He was a contradiction of pride and humble behavior. He was giving of nature but demanding of the people he let into his world. He was given nothing in this life, and earned everything he ever got in this world. You had to live up to his standards. there was NO better feeling in this world than when my father said he was proud of me, or worse than when he was disappointed.

I have said to people that the best and worst day in this world was the day I lost my father. Worst because he was my moral compass and I was the Baby of the family and I adored him. The best because I had to grow up. I was forced from my safe hiding place and made to be an adult and put the lessons he armed me with into practice.

What I didn't realize at the time is that the best thing I got from him, without ever realizing it, is I have a sarcastic sense of humor and view life as a comedy of errors. Even tragedy has a side to it that can make you laugh if you look at it from my perspective. I know it isn't politically correct, but hell, I gave that false behavior up a long time ago. That is probably another lesson I learned from him, how to be comfortable in my skin, all my scars (visible and hidden), all of my luggage and quirks. I own all of me. Good, bad and ugly. And while it may not please everyone, I like it just fine thanks.

Being as he left this earth before I could have more in depth conversations with him, I wish I knew more about how his brain worked. I would love to know if he looked at situations and just boggled at the absurdity of this thing called life. Would I now be taking care of two CRAZY OLD BATS? Maybe I would be in the home, perhaps the care of both of them would have pushed me around the bend.

Alas I will never know, but I can wonder. It makes me feel better to think perhaps I turned out OK and he would be happy with the fact that I think like him. Well better probably isn't the right word, less crazy or callous would be the preferred interpretation.


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