Christine Lukasik

and then there was one

 

Mom passed at 2:47AM April 16th. Damn.Damn.Damn and Damn.

 

 

Happy Birthday Dad

Found a winner in the archives for this year’s birthday remembrance! Those awesome 70s pants. The beard! You only shaved it once – and I pointed and laughed laughed laughed at what looked like a comically tiny chin. You’re rocking it here! The watch – still love that watch – you’d be amused to know that the style has totally come back around. The antennae – it’s nearly as tall as you! And that giant hook!? Your work was frackin’ awesome. And so were you. I celebrate the day of your birth!

LovePainJoy

Today 13 years ago my Dad died suddenly.
(Dad and the '67 Chevelle)

I was lucky though, if you can say that in these type of situations. He and my mother had just been visiting me in Seattle to celebrate my birthday. SeaFair was on so there was a festive atmosphere and much running to catch a glimpse of the Blue Angels every time we heard the roar. My father worked on aircraft engines at GE early in his career. My father and I spent the last day they were here together, just the two of us ramming around Seattle. We found out there was a submarine docked and headed to go see that, since my Dad used to work on Trident sub engines. We had a lovely day- and the following day my parents flew back to Ohio. The first day he was back in Ohio he attended a work golf outing and died at the first hole. Today, 1997.

But as I said earlier, I feel lucky. Even though I was a country away, during that last year we had an extended last Christmas holiday all together ('twas the year of the Seattle blizzard which stranded me in Ohio), my father visited that spring, all of us were together for my birthday, and the last day he was here - just the two of us. couldn't have asked for a better awful situation.

Now we all just get to miss him forever.
The way he said "Heeeeey Kiddo" every morning when we talked on the phone.

The way he watched the Seattle traffic cameras on the web every day so he'd know what the weather was like and have a connection to me.

How he laughed when he was scared or having a lot of fun - or both - like riding space mountain

That he was a _terrible_ passenger....but when he was driving his favorite saying was "there's only one steering wheel in this car for a reason!"

His cardplaying-smack-talk hilarious and silly

His favorite method of photography (after a few beers) - running around a party with the camera about hip height, snapping randomly, then trying to reconstruct the story when the prints came back

The way he could guess what was wrapped in ANY package with freakish accuracy despite our best packaging disguises or attempts to fool him (this was especially true if the package involved pistacio nuts).

His amazing mechanical engineering abilities - he could build/fix/design ANYTHING - regardless of whether or not he had any experience doing it and whatever it was it would be able to withstand about 100x the normal recommended load. He and my mother not only built out house, but they designed it, the driveway, cleared the land, did all the wiring, plumbing and systems, built decks, garages, barns, chain saws, tractors, skid loaders - they rebuilt car engines, painted cars - CRAZY.

The amazing way he had with people - with almost everyone - colleagues, friends, people he met in the grocery store, the wine store, the car wash! He was always chatting up someone. The all loved him, and I swear, every dang one of them showed up at his memorial service.

I'll miss the way he would give me advice, and say that it was 'just his opinion', that I could do whatever I wanted, but then offer me some incentive for doing what he actually wanted me to do - effective technique, I must say.

I was so lucky to have such a wonderful dad. Thankful. but miss him every damn day.  Go hug your parents, or your children, or call them if you can. If not, I'm sorry, and I join you in missing them. forever.

day of catch

lord knows you've seen enough of this fish, but this is the day he caught it. I keep claming that it was bigger than me but clearly not the case. Still a monster. and I loved the shirt I was wearing - one of my faves. and my Dad looks awesome.

Unexpected found items - Dad's books

Packing up items for the move and stumbled on a few items tucked into my Dad's Cambria Steel book from college. Most were conversion charts and other logical reference cards on strength of materials type stuff that you would expect for a student in Mechanical Engineering.

One stood out

a clipping of "The Ring of Hans Carver" (after Rabelais) - which appears to be some form of Ballads, Sailors' Songs, Cowboy Songs, College Songs, Parodies, Limericks, and other humorous verses and doggerel according to Immortalia - a compendium of sorts of such things.

"The Ring of Hans Carver" (after Rabelais)

by Joseph T. Shipley

What has she done that you should suspect her, Hans?

Is not your love enough to protect her, Hans?

Is she a fire stirred by so many fans

You must have power greater than any man's?

Hear then a wondrous thing;

The wearer of this ring

all other lovers bans

Hans.

Hans woke, in his lusty pride,

To wreak his love on his bride,

What was the ring the dawn would bring?

He blushed, for his hand was pressed

in passions nest...

And then Hand ruefully knew

His dream was true.

It should be noted that so far as I know my father was NO fan of poetry or literature, or even reading for pleasure or appreciation of the craft. So what was this snippet doing in the book? What it is about? Is it an, er, morning type dream that Hans has had?

Many questions. No source for answers.

someday

This evening I'm holding fast to the hope that one day I will find new lovely new holiday celebrations… that makes the time feel truly SPECIAL.

This lack of specialness (as I define and experience it) is that which I mourn in most EVERY aspect of my life.

I'm very lucky to have my mother nearby. We spent Christmas day together this year - the first in many - due to a series of, well, situations that make holiday time together just not happen. This year, just the two of us, we made the best of it enjoying a drive and day at a local casino slot machine gambling followed by a tasty leftover dinner at my apartment with Allie and Murphy. It was a nice day and we both tried to recall only lightly the poignant moments from the past - our 27 odd years together as a whole family – with my Father. Thousands of wonderful moments stored in only our our minds and hearts - that we're lucky to have -  but miss with a pain that cannot be articulated with words. This year we spent the day as companions – gently caring – as only people from the same core family can.

Let me be clear - I'm ever so thankful for all the blessings I DO have. I spend a lot of time reflecting on gratitude. I also deeply long for the right love relationship - one simply by being present makes ordinary moments special. Someone who did for holidays what my Father did for my Mother and I - and everyday for my mother. partner. man. friend. person upon whom she could RELY when ALL and EVERYONE ELSE failed.  The tiny became magical and the serious became the joke of the year. Nothing was overwrought, forced, or overly produced, just the right decorations year after year, the same music, kooky traditions, outdoors - burned eyelashes and laughing and love. I believe I will mourn those holiday celebrations for what remains of my days. Within this, as well, the fear (it's nearly a knowing at this point) that I will never come close and that everything will always feel like a cheap imitation with temporary stand-in people who don't really know me, or even care to.

That said, I do want to thank my friends who invited me to spend their holidays with them. Geese, dinners, potlucks, parties, church, brunches, you name it J Thank YOU! I love all of you and your invitations speak to me in the language of the love of our friendship. You're amazing, funny, smart, and strong people – it is an my honor to call you my friends.

I know I let some of you down (not just about Christmas, either) – quitting, running out crying during the Xmas Eve XFit workout, declining invitations, and worse yet accepting and not coming. It's such a rude return on your investment of love and caring toward me – and for that I am sorry. I did the best I could. The rest of the time I protected my thin emotional shell by hiding out and watching bad TV, reading, cleaning, organizing, and taking what comfort I could from Murphy and Allie and warm blankets and tea. Not a terrible way to spend some time off after all – but this is what I have been doing for nearly all of the 12 years since my father died. I'd like to try a special experience with someone rather than just trying to "tolerate and get through it". And it's not just Christmas – my birthday preceded my father's death by ~7 days. He and my mother were visiting me in Seattle on my birthday, they flew home to Ohio and  he died the following day. I'm SO lucky to have had that last little infusion with him and will treasure those moments to my grave -  but ever since my birthday has been tied up in an emotional sad universe of grief. I need to build some new experiences that feel magical so that I can enjoy something again in this life. Romance that leads to a real proposal and engagement, a magical romantic once-in-a-lifetime wedding, special holidays to follow – hopefully children – things that feel so distant for me that they only seen to happen to actors on television shows and movies.

but I'm hopeful.

sometimes.

Huskie Muskie

 

My Father's prize Huskie Muskie - caught in Leesville Lake just down the hill from my house. 33.5lbs, 49in long. Was longer than I was tall when he caught it. What a story and how excited he was OMG. Too long to type today. I've been carting this with me since my mother sold the house and have only just hung it for the first time this past weekend. Feels good to have it up, and hopefully someday soon I'll have a proper garage for it so he'll feel really at home with some fast cars, hot tools, and a big old beer fridge. For now I see him every day when I come and leave my apartment and that makes me really really happy.

Dad and daughter

Happy birthday Dad. Wish we could share a beer and a laugh.

were you here? when?

 

The view out one of my windows at the Ritz at Half Moon Bay - these duffers made me think of my dad. I wonder if he played this course, putted this hole, with this view. He spent a ton of time in the area and was always golfing. The first business trip he ever took me on with him was to San Fran then on to Palo Alto (hoping to inspire me to work hard enough to get into Stanford) so I always feel close to him when I travel there. Watching these men, probably dads, in this moment in this lovely light - since my dad died on a course - was particularly poignant.

Miss you Dad.

Blue Angels