SuperBowl and Super Old Vmail

I have, just this moment, decided what to do with the voicemail still on my phone, unlistened to, from my dad on February 9, 2010.  I'm going to listen to it on the 9th, let dear brother record it, and then.... let it go.   

Today is the SuperBowl, and it too is an emotional day.  My dad loved football and the SuperBowl.  I like to think he would've rooted for the Packers, but he could have gone either way.  I personally hate the Steelers, and am glad my reverse psychology mindtrick worked on them again this year.  (Thank God.)  I just felt sad that Dad wasn't here to see the game.  When the horse races are held later in the year, I will feel the same way again.  I really enjoyed our rituals on these occasions.

Paul noticed my moodiness.  I'm always surprised when he notices; he catches these things more often that not.  I guess, being 35 now, my face probably gives away my emotions more than I realize.  I'm glad we have each other.

I'm glad I have this place to dump my emotions when reflection gives way to despair.  I have employed some positive coping skills, and have recognized some fallacious thoughts at times, and I know I am doing okay.  Sometimes I just really miss him.

I was thinking the other night about his clothes and shoes.  At some point, will we box them up?  Give them to Goodwill?  Put them in boxes?  If so I know we will keep the bear charm.  I wonder when we will do this.  I will be okay when we do.  He is not his clothes.  Maybe we will keep some things.  G Moss kept her hubby's clothing for a VERY long time, and never actually disposed of his cologne or other toiletries.

Oh hey.. Masterpiece Theatre is running a biographical show on Alistaire Cooke.  I remember riding in the car with dad, near the B Mall, when it was announced on the radio that Cooke had died.  I'm going to watch this... I would watch it anyway, but it appeals particularly in light of my mood.  Dad even made a reference to the Muppet, Alistaire Cookie.  Dad loved biography and always encouraged us to read the histories of great people.  Blah blah blah.... off to watch.  For dad and for me. Seems like a fitting thing to do after the SuperBowl.

I love you, Dad.  I miss you.