Dear So and So

Dear B*tchcakes,

You are the sweetest little bike ever, and I will never tire of taking you out on the roads, paths, tracks and trails where you show me your stuff. You've carried me faithfully for miles and miles, and I'm so grateful.

I'm sorry I let you get dusty and your chain a little rusty over this winter, but it wasn't an easy time for me, either. We still had fun riding through the snow at Brown's Camp, didn't we?

So... I promise, as soon as I can afford it, I'll get you all trued, tightened, straightened and lubed, and we'll go out again.

Until then, can you please get by on my own little amounts of maintenance?

Thanks, and lots of love,
-Kitsune

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by kelownagirl

Awww, me too.... :(

---

Me three. L.

Me four. I miss my parents so much. I was thinking about my dad a lot last night when we were over at some friends' looking at pics of their trip to Washington and the WWII War Memorial. My dad didn't die in that war, but he (and my mom) were there when Pearl Harbor was bombed, (they ate dinner on the Arizona the night before!!!) at the start of the war, and he was there at the end. He was a decoder. When I was a kid, I had all this weird Japanese money to play with, that he brought home from the war. Also, in my bedroom is a teak chest that he bought for my mom in Hawaii, where he was stationed, before they sent all the wives home on a cruise ship. My mom (also passed away) had a job putting enough parts in a body bag to make an entire soldier. When I knew her, you never would have guessed. All you guys that have your parents still alive- you are so lucky.

Nanci

Not surprisingly, Nanci's parents were also very cool! What great stories.

My dad died in 1965 of a brain tumor. He was 35 years old, a high school history teacher and varsity baseball coach. I was 5 when he died, my brother was 2, and my sister 10 months old. He was known for being a slooow runner around the bases; he joked about it himself. I take comfort that it's genetic. I cannot imagine what life would've been like had I grown up with him. Not perfect, but different. To have been able to look to my dad for protection and approval as a little kid would've put a different spin on my personality, no doubt. He was a smart, funny, loving, generous man. He should have been here longer.

My dad was an engineer. He was the kind of guy that could fix anything. I mean anything! I lived in fear of using a tool from his basement workshop and not returning it to its place. When he died, when the minister read the eulogy, he talked about how my dad would be so excited to get to heaven, how he would have been so interested in "the mystery" of it all. When my mom died, I thought, how could the minister ever come up with a eulogy as memorable, and close to home, as that of my father, of my mother, who was a stay-at-home mom (they all were, then) but he talked about what a caregiver she was, how other peoples' needs were what she lived for. It's so true- how do they think of what to say...The program from her funeral is still in the pocket of that long black dress coat I wore- I never look at it, but I feel it when I wear that coat...

Isn't it weird, how you can dream about your parents any night, and it is just like they are still alive?

You guys that still have them- treasure every moment- that's all I can say.

I need to call my Mom tonight. This is the second Father's Day since my Dad died of prostate cancer. He was a wonderful, peaceful, patient, and funny man. Also smart and ... oh, the list could go on and on.

Yes he was, a wonderful man, I miss him every day.

Dear Summer Solstice,

Thank you for coming around, even though I don't believe it can possibly happen through the long, wet, cold, dark season in the eastern midwest part of this major land mass. Every winter solstice, I bravely tell myself to hang on, that we get one more minute of light a day, but I'm just whistling in the dark to keep my hopes up.

By April I know it will never be warm again. Then yesterday I got to start out on my bike at 6PM, ride hard for an hour, sit on the grass by the lake, look back on my beautiful city, relaxed and easy, stretch my back, eat my Sport Beans, help another cyclist with her tire, and ride back, hard as I could...all in the beautiful sunlight and perfect temperature.

Thank you for the hope with which you fill my heart. L.

I miss my mother and father bunches also. My mom died about 15 years ago (unbelievable -- it doesn't seem like that long ago) of esophageal cancer. She never smoked, drank, etc. -- just bad luck. My dad died around 12 years ago -- he was 80.

I was so close to both of them. I'm the youngest of 14 children and it just really felt strange when we had no leaders left to guide the clan. We're still all very close, however, and I know I'll get to see my parents again one day. :)

I haven't read a lot of these threads in a while, and the bit about the dads got to me too. I miss my dad tremendously, and it's funny, like Nanci said, that we can still dream about our departed ones as if they're still here!

So Dear Dad,
Hope you're doing well, wherever you are. Hope you're fishing a lot and doing the things you like to do and hanging out with all your family. Hope I see you WAY down the road!

I miss mine, too. He was so calm and level-headed. And wise. Things come up that I wish I could talk to him about and get his take. He didn't talk much, but what he said was always good. Or deeply funny. He had a crazy dry wit. And he loved my son dearly.

SKnot probably won't remember him as he grows up, and that's what makes me cry.

Dear women I saw riding today:

I am SO excited you were exercising. You were out with your friends in your sweats, road riding on your mountain bikes, usually in groups of two. You were enjoying the cool morning air and catching up on your friends' life. Just a casual ride. Isn't cycling great?

Please don't take this wrong, but PLEASE wear a helmet. I don't want you to miss a single minute of the wonderful lives you lead because you are dead or have a brain injury.

Come on, women! All the men riders I saw were wearing helmets, but none of you women riders were wearing one, except for my group. Granted, helmets can mess up the 'do, but so can a head injury.

Sincerely,

A concerned woman

Father's day doesn't make me weepy for my Dad, it's October and hunting season that does it for me. Some of my best memories with my Dad involve a dead deer or elk - or one that got away. (Yeah, I'm pretty redneck)

He taught me how to change a bike tire, the difference between a flat and phillips screwdriver, how to shift a car (going up mountain passes, I was in charge of shifting, he just worked the clutch), how to ride and train a horse, and gave me quite a (ahem) strong vocabulary.

The thing is, he's not my genetic father, but my siblings didn't find out 'til they were grown. It didn't matter to him, I was his, no matter how I got there. I apprecitate that.

Me too for the gazillionith time. I love hearing about all your dads. Also, you surprised some tears right out of my eyes!

Dear Daddy,

Man, do I miss you. I think about you every day and it doesn't seem at all like ten years have gone by since you died. I miss your intellect (who else could start a Scrabble game with "equinox"?), your wit, your incredibly clever and erudite limericks, your heart and soul, your concern about and interest in everything ("You got HOW MANY inches of snow in Seattle??"), your wisdom and humanity. I couldn't have had a more wonderful human being for a dad. I will never not miss you.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by salsabike

Me too for the gazillionith time. I love hearing about all your dads. Also, you surprised some tears right out of my eyes!

Dear Daddy,

Man, do I miss you. I think about you every day and it doesn't seem at all like ten years have gone by since you died. I miss your intellect (who else could start a Scrabble game with "equinox"?), your wit, your incredibly clever and erudite limericks, your heart and soul, your concern about and interest in everything ("You got HOW MANY inches of snow in Seattle??"), your wisdom and humanity. I couldn't have had a more wonderful human being for a dad. I will never not miss you.

---

Wow! That's, what ... 120 points in the opening move? Maybe more. I'm assuming he got the x or the q on a double, but there may have been another double in there. Plus double word for the whole thing, and 50 for scrabbling. My dad experimented with 3D scrabble (where a word could go out one side of the board and continue from the opposite side as if it had wrapped around the back. If you were really lucky, you could triple a word 3 times. But eventually Mom and Dad dropped that experiment because it "clogged" up the board so fast. They also had a non-competitive rule, where they played for max total score.

Your Dad sounds like a fine person, a lot like Trek420's and mine. Weren't we all lucky to have 'em!!