2 At some point in the blur that was last week, my sister Linda brought us a video of one of our many wonderful Christmases.
3 At one point we watched my Mom running around like an athlete catching wrapping paper, tissue and ribbons, turning and throwing three-pointers into the trash can.
4 Dad was up and around like a downfield runner. I forgot how quick and fun they both were.
5 It was quite a moment. All of us were watching and electrified at looking into our own past, which was looking back with all of us acknowledging on film that someday we would be sitting around watching this, talking about it and laughing.
6 Coley nailed it when she posted this on Facebook: "Hearing Nonie and Papa laughing together made my heart hurt in a good way."
7 Indeed.
8 Well put Coley.
9 I have a short poem I hope to bring to the proceedings this morning.
10 It's funny because I needed to get off campus really fast yesterday.
11 The only time I do that is when a new contract is coming up, and the usual back-and-forth stuff has us not doing all the extra stuff we do.
12 To teachers, it's like trying to get off an addiction. We routinely put in twelve to fifteen hours on weekends planning, answering parents, correcting papers and all the rest.
13 We miss lots of parties and other things, but it is what we do. Most of it is voluntary.
14 The truth is, we couldn't possibly stick to the the tight time span of our contract and go home without having it gravely affect everything.
15 Most teachers I know work to the point of exhaustion, like most people. It's just difficult for us to take a day off.
16 We each navigate our lessons like a ship through waters. Sometimes they're gentle waters, sometimes they're agitated waters, and sometimes they're stormy waters. And sometimes we fine ourselves in perfect storms.
17 Sound familiar? In short, it's a job very much like everyone else's job.
18 I literally grabbed an empty back pack just to get together with colleagues and leave at exactly 3:30.
19 I had to fudge, because I had to write my lesson plan, but everything else was packed.
20 Except the poem I hope to read at Dad's service today.
21 I have collections of bad poetry stored in all sorts of places and on all sorts of hard drives, flash drive, boxes and folders.
22 A while back I put most things on a yellow-white flash drive. In fact, nearly every poem I've ever written is on that drive.
23 Except the one about Dad.
24 I got home, tore up the house and couldn't find it.
25 Without hesitation I said, "I've got to get back up to the school and look through everything."
26 I got Zen about it.
27 I went to my classroom, tore through every box,hard drive, flash drive, box and folder I could.
28 Not there.
29 I decided to leave, and try to remember how the poem went on the way home.
30 I practiced telling the poem, which is simply about my experiences walking to church with Dad when I was young.
31 It's funny though. I thought of myself as six years old on the way home, on my haunches in the kitchen while Mom was looking at me. I thought of an old b/w photo with that in it.
31 I pulled up to the house and went in. I figured if I can write this nonsense I could try to recapture that little poem.
32 When I got home I started to go through still more boxes and folders, but it was to no avail.
33 Rene suddenly jumped up and decided she was going to find that one sheet of paper. She went in to our business files, at which point I rolled my eyes. Needle. Haystack. No way.
34 After a few minutes, she found a folder called "Poetry" that had slid into the business files, somewhere between the Dell desktop stuff and the Xerox file, which is now extinct.
35 She opened it and it had a bunch of random papers, most unrelated to poetry.
36 Do you have my organizational skills?
37 I turned a few pages, and there, on a yellowed first copy was the poem. To me it was gold. It began like this:
----
1
my Dad
had a shoeshine kit
that snapped shut
with one of those suitcase
latches
it had a wooden
thing shaped like a foot
and you would put
your shoe on it.
38 That's a staple up there. Pretty recognizable document.
39 And now eternally rare.
40 I'll be reading it today.
41 It's short.
42 But I don't have lots of memories of Dad and me crying or getting into deep conversations. We're pals.
43 Our convos were more like this: "That's coaching!" "Facemask." "Shit." and my fave, "YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" We got deep.
44 Anybody lookin'?
45
46 On this, the day of Papa's celebration, I pause. I shake my head and smile.
47 I even yawn a bit.
48 My pants are pressed.
49 I'm wearing a tie.
50 I look SO nice I could walk into Malloy's and order a couple of Manhattans in his honor.
51
52 I say that only because in the end, dad fancied ice cream and Manhattans.
53 And pretty nurses.
54 He charmed every one of them.
55 I may have told this, but it bears repeating.
56 At some point in all these hospital trips, I had to rush him to Emergency after he got into some secret stash of candy or ice cream or whatevs.
57 He was annoyed; I wanted his head.
58 After a long time of sticky notes put on his chest and tubes plugged into all parts of his body, he inadvertently body checked some button that summoned nurses.
59 My guess it was vertently, for the record.
60 Within seconds, this knockout of a nurse appeared, quite possibly from Heaven.
61 She looked at Dad and asked, "Did you need anything, Mr. Harrington?"
62 After a slight pause, he answered as only he could,
"Love?"
63 You gotta love it, if you are Earthly.
64 He is, as stated in other pieces, a caution.
65 Present tense.
67 That's the way God planned it.
---George Harrison, musician
68 Nobody's perfect.
69 Just look at Yoko Ono.
70 But my Dad comes as close to it as anyone I've ever known.
71 Moving On, Part Whatevs: So if you think about it, throw some love into the realms.
72 Thanks for listening.
73 So long, pal.
74 See you all again.
74 Gottago.
76 Peace.
~H~
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