Closure

Cheers, Dad.

My sister and I finally received the last of the closure we'd been hoping for since Dad died. Per our lawyer, and creativity, let's just say it's taken me a while to, uh, express myself on this one. I woke up in the middle of the night with this thought. So, here it goes.

Dad was a great roadtripper and a great driver. He loved to watch the car and speed show on Sunday mornings, and then take a little drive on a curvy road, I think it was Boudreaux Rd., and see how he his car would corner on the curves. Never once did I get nervous. And on roadtrips, he'd set up his speed reader, the beeper, some have a more technical name, like radar, but that's what we called it. Riding with Dad was always fast, comfortable and you just felt safe. Typically when roadtripping and sleeping, when you came into a small town, you never knew, because his driving was so smooth, you couldn't even feel him slow down abruptly. One time he got a ticket because he was cruising a bit too fast, and when his speed reader went off, he smoothly tapped his breaks. The cop told him he didn't slow down fast enough when he radarred him. Dad later told me he was going 92 mph. The cop clocked him at 79 mph. I'd say he slowed down fast enough, just not enough for the law is all.

Inevitably, we'd end up on a smaller road, two lanes. We'd get stuck behind someone and he'd calculate how much time he was losing by driving the speed limit. And that's when dad explained his philosophy on drivers. There were two types of drivers to Dad. There were those who drove slower than him. And those who drove faster. The ones who drove slow were the assholes who got in his way. Nothing bugged Dad more than getting around an asshole, making a pit stop, and then coming up on the same asshole and getting stuck behind him/her again. And the ones who drove faster than him, when they passed him, he'd profess, "They are fucking crazy." And some of them would surprise you, from the looks and what they communicated. Like, a Jaguar cruisin at 55mph in the left lane. That was an absolute travesty. A minivan or a station wagon flying by and passing Dad would tick him off, and then kind of impress him.

Really, it's a nice little life lesson.

So, Dad, we finally got around the assholes who got in your way. Who slowed you down. We know you were trying to get around them for a while. Some of them were Jags or Corvettes and let us down. We've been stuck behind them for almost 3 years. It's as if we made a pit stop,you got out of the car, and we came back on them. And the rage and irritation you felt on the highway is a fraction of what we now know you had to deal with for years.

We will try not to be fucking crazy and go too fast. I will do as you taught me: push it a little bit, see how it takes the corners, keep it steady, safe and smooth. And always, always, keep a radar handy.

That's how I roll.