I bought this album just to have the song. The album was The Man Who by Travis, and the song is Why Does It Always Rain On Me? This also might have been the last time I bought an album just to have a song off of it. It was a wise choice. When I think about melancholy music that I love, I think of this song, and Talk Show Host by Radiohead.
Author: Matthew Groff
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Mom and Dad’s Wedding Anniversary
Today would have been my parent’s 58th Wedding Anniversary. My Ma passed away five years ago, and as we close in on October, it will soon be six years. Normally, I rarely remembered my parents anniversary as it felt a little weird to me to celebrate their anniversary, but at the same time, I should celebrate their anniversary because without it, I wouldn’t be here. Point being that it was not foremost on my mind, and my Ma usually reminded me when it was coming up.
Their 50th Wedding Anniversary was a big deal, for more than the obvious reasons. Me and my brothers, wives included, threw a big dinner for them. Friends and relatives came in to help celebrate, and me and my little family snuck in town, and surprised my parents. It was great time; great food, great drinks, great stories. It was great, and a wonderful celebration of two very wonderful people who were filled with love, and gave some much love back to the world.
I had forgotten today was their anniversary. Just about two hours ago, when I looked at the calendar on my computer, did I see the reminder.
I talked to my Dad yesterday, we had a great conversation, but it didn’t come up. I’m not prone to remember these things, and I wouldn’t expect my father to say anything.
He still has his wedding ring on. When we were home last, I made a point to check to see if he still had it. Sure did. And why would he take it off.
There are so many days that trigger memories of my mother. Today is one of them, clearly. But a couple of days ago, it was my eighteenth anniversary of moving from Texas to New York, and that is a date that I am very proud of. And as I thought about my move, I remembered my Ma hugging me and crying as I left for the airport. And at my niece’s wedding this Summer, couldn’t help but wonder how Ma would have reacted to seeing her granddaughter getting married.
My family doesn’t talk too much about missing Ma. It’s very much understood that we all miss her, and that won’t ever go away. Where we are now is telling funny stories and fond memories when we all get together. Don’t get me wrong, we are all still working through our grief, as that will be a long process. But, talking about her isn’t painful anymore.
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ODDS and ENDS: Surprised I’m Here, Gotta Have Goals, and Sports
(Nothin’ to do, nowhere to go…)
I’m forty-seven years old. Not ashamed of my age, and other than a slight pot belly, I think I look rather good for my age. But for the life of me, when I was a kid, like nine years old, I never imagined that I would be this old. Well, sometimes I thought I’d be really old, like eighty, walking with a cane, shuffling around, being all grandpa like. No, when I was a kid, I thought I’d be in my twenties, and then, nothing. Thirty seemed like it was so far away, let alone forty. That some how, it couldn’t be possible that I would live that long. Not that I had some death wish, or believed I was doomed. No, it was more a matter of time. It’s time, the time it would take to become old seemed insurmountable. There just was no way that I could become that old… When I think about me at nine year old, I think he would be surprised that I am still here. And so bald…
But the thing that makes getting older tolerable, is having a goal. Something to work towards, or look forward to. My Grandma Groff used to say that all the time when she would come and visit. That and it helps to have some spending money. But the goal thing, having something to accomplish, that has made a big difference if the last year for me. Not that it’s completely gone, but I don’t have that feeling of flounder much any more. That I’m just passing through my life, instead of being active in it.
Growing up, we were a sports family, and then there was me; the un-athletic kid. I mean I tried. I tried my hand at baseball and basketball up through junior high. I really did love playing baseball, but I wasn’t athletically gifted; Batting ninth and right field were my lot. I took tennis lessons in high school, as my dad believed that we should do something physical, and not be a total loaf. I was pretty good at tennis, but I didn’t have the killer instinct for me to actually be competitive. After high school, I stopped playing any sort of sport. And then I had a daughter, who now is very into soccer. Which is cool, because I really like watching it. In my kid’s mind, watching soccer must mean that I know how to play soccer, right? I had written a week or so ago about helping the kid get ready for the soccer club try out. I enjoyed that, mainly because I was spending time with my daughter, but it was good being out and active. I also see in her mind’s eye that she is starting to think I am an athletic type of person. I enjoy this admiration I am receiving from her, but I know that in a year of two, it’s going to dawn on her how awkward and uncoordinated I really am.
