I was excited today, since we were going to go to the lake for the first time this year. It just kind of came about randomly since the pool wasn't quite summer ready and it was HOT here in Vegas and I asked the kids and they said: "Yes! Please!"
So I cleaned out the kayak and readied the tent and the chairs and the tarps and blankets and towels and ran to the store and bought food and supplies and the kids helped me and we waited for the cousins to come over to meet us and I mentioned something at some point to an old friend and he said: "Ha, just like your father- the two of you and water." And then he went on to talk about something completely different and I was no longer listening. I vaguely registered that he was still on the line.
I MISS MY DAD.
"I miss my dad!!" My brain was screaming at me and I was screaming back: "Shut up!" and it yelled back at me: "I'm just stating the obvious! I MISS MY DAD." And I said: "Shut the fu** up, I have no use for you here and now, leave me alone." "I MISS DAD". And I threatened myself with myself and made me pull up the usual visual distractor which is an old TV that has run out of programming and just shows and screams fuzz at me. "Stare at that."
I finished cleaning out the car.
I miss my dad.
I packed the rest of the car and then my brother showed up and he asked what all the food was and I said I made sandwiches, because the kids like eating them at the lake. And he said: "You sound just like dad". And then he went on to suggest we eat out and I screamed at him: "NO, I have enough sandwiches for all of us. The kids like it this way." And he just shook his head at me and I missed my dad. "It's OK to like it just like dad, you don't need your kids as a front." And I was angry at him. Leave me alone.
And we drove down to the lake and I was almost giddy. The music was just right, there were a fair amount of cars in front of us doing the same thing, the car smelled of sunscreen, the sun was shining down on us, Sebastian asked if we would get ice cream on the way home (of COURSE) and Gigi said it was the perfect time to take a little nap. I flared my nostrils, trying to take in the air and the memory, new and old.
I really miss my dad.
The lake was fabulously fun. My niece hung out with me in the water, floating and saying: "This is the life!" and I stared at her, because in German, that was always my dad's saying. It wasn't quite so much fun when Julian showed up with a deep cut and my brother and I were debating whether or not he needed stitches, but even then the boys started cleaning up the equipment in anticipation, holding on to their slices of watermelon, sand in their hair and smudged across their cheeks.
We decided Julian would live (he was a bit doubtful still at this time) and left for our ice cream date. My brother winked at me over dripping ice cream at the harbor and said: "Now THIS does not remind me of dad. This is all YOU." And I just glanced at him and muttered: "Shut up, Iraina, shut up."
And I missed my dad.
