Riding life

Life is funny sometimes, and it tosses things at you that make you stop and think.

Katie's other grandfather just passed away--she actually got the call when we were putting Sammy and Bar away last night. I don't have a lot of contact with that part of Katie's family anymore, but I do have memories--including walking across the Golden Gate Bridge with her grandfather for his 50th birthday. I was wearing cowboy boots, as a matter of fact.

I'm still mourning my dad, though in my own haphazard way. I let the memories rise when they do, and try to take the time to pause--even for just a moment--to let them wash over me.

Dad gave us time to prepare. We all knew it was coming, even though he himself never really acknowledged it. With Steve (not my Steve, obviously), the actual event was sudden, even though he'd been ill for awhile.

Katie says neither way is really better.

It makes me miss my dad, of course, but also allows me to be grateful we had that time at the end. Time to take him out for a ride in my convertible. Time to hear him laugh one last time. Time to watch him see Katie one more time, even if it meant seeing that ghost of regret cross his face because he knew he'd be missing more of her life than he'd seen so far. (And that's a memory that plays in my head a lot, believe me.)

Life can be a ride--sometimes good, sometimes bad--but it's always there to be lived however you choose to live it.

Best get on with it, then.