Tuesday, November 25, 2003
On this cold, cold rainy day,
I remember:
My father passed away 15 years ago today.
John P. MacCarthy.
Things I remember about him:
His black curly hair
and hazel eyes.
He once spent an entire afternoon untangling fishing lines for me and my three sisters,
and he didn't lose his temper.
The way he taught me to ride a bike:
he just pushed me out in the highway-
I learned immediately.
The way he made games we were playing come alive
when he joined in...
His joy at playing the drums, and singing.
His stories about things that were our "secret".
The way he called New Year's Eve Amateur Night.
How we picked dandelion greens together.
How he took me and my three sisters to Niagara Falls.
How he took me and my three sisters to a strawberry farm near where he lived,
we ate so many that we picked hardly any...
His old black Plymouth sedan.
And his red sweater.
How he would love to cook.
The night he came to see me perform,
and sat in on the drums...
When my great grandfather Pietro from Italy
passed away,
my father took my hand and said:
"Remember,there's nothing closer than family. "
His excitement at me bringing
his first male grandchild into the world.
He wasn't perfect.
But he was my dad,
and I loved him...
On this day,
I'd like to honor his memory.
Funny how love becomes a cold rainy day
Funny that rainy day is here...
-Here's That Rainy Day
Johnny Burke & James Van Heusen
Till next time... 'Mela
2:57 AM
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Photo: Michio Yves Ueda
