Ten Years Gone …

It was a decade ago today — and even somewhat close to the hour, as best that I can recall — that my father died. A decade that has been filled with tumult, not the least of which was my own passing visit with the Grim Reaper — a visit that will have its own five-year … “celebration” … on my personal calendar in less than two weeks. Funny that things like my hemorrhagic stroke, my severed quadriceps tendon, Dad’s death, Mom’s long and painful death — they all seem to occur around this time of year. …

 I know I rarely post here anymore, and no one ever reads anything here (or anywhere) anymore, despite all the traffic I seem to get (thanks Russian hackers!). Yes, I know everyone in the world has graduated to Assbook Facebook and whatnot (and most times in some sort of asinine outrage; it seems everyone has turned into Comic Book Guy now), and I wish them well. You know how it is: I just don’t care, yadda yadda yadda. The sudden and unexpected brush with death and the ensuing long recovery seems to have put a lot of the minutia of life — all of it, really — in perspective.

And yet I still feel the need to mark this macabre day.

So Dad, just let me say, as always, you are gone but never forgotten …