December 23, 2008

Hi Fahjie Bear,

It feels like forever since I’ve written to you. It’s amazing how quickly the things I want to tell you pile up.

I got a little behind because we went to Duluth for a night. It was nice to get away, but sad, of course. Duluth will probably always be at least a little sad without you there. We went to a movie and then Nick drove us around to see the Christmas lights. They obviously didn’t appeal to me as much this year as they usually do but it was still nice to get out. I’d much rather ride than drive and driving has sort of been my thing lately, whether I like it or not. Your truck has been making driving a lot more tolerable though. My goodness, the snow just will. not. stop. I kid you not. It snows constantly. I guess I picked one hell of a year to move in with a dude who has an extra four-wheel drive vehicle just sitting around.

When we were in Duluth, we stopped to do a little shopping, including picking up a bottle of Baileys for JoAnn, because you KNOW we are going to continue as many Fahj traditions as we possibly can. Legacy, legacy, legacy. Anyway, when we were in Cash Wise, we saw a guy who looked remarkably like you. In reality, he probably looked nothing like you but you’re kind of weighing heavily on our minds lately. He had the same hair as you, wore his hat the same way, and had the same type of glasses. His build was not quite as manly, but we were standing behind him in line and, holy balls, from the shoulders up, with his head turned slightly to the side, it was YOU. And we almost lost our shit completely, right there in the liquor store. That would have been so embarrassing. We have reputations to maintain, especially in the liquor store.

Yesterday, it also became quite clear that not only did I inherit your road rage tendencies, but your death has aggravated them. I’m sure all the holiday traffic around Target and the mall didn’t help matters. At one point, I even made Red flip off some lazy old lady who was parked in the most ridiculous place. I mean, seriously, get off your fat ass and walk twenty-five feet further. If you’re not able to do that, there are plenty of front-row handicapped spots available for you. I get all worked up just thinking about it. ASSHOLES.

Red is also now very much in the anger stage of grieving. She walked around Target, getting pissed at all the old people because there’s still alive. I can’t tell you how many times I heard her mutter under her breath, “seriously, why the fuck do you still get to be alive and Dad doesn’t?” Wouldn’t that be convenient if we could just all live to the ripe old age of ninety or ninety-five and know we’re going to check out then? Our lives would be a lot easier right now if that was the case but it would also really screw up that whole natural selection thing God has going on.

We brought the tv we bought you for Christmas back home with us yesterday. Mom said she didn’t want it and we hemmed and hawed about returning it but, in the end, Red and I decided to keep it here. You wanted a new tv and pretending you’ll be watching it from that urn on the bookcase might make us feel just a little bit better. Whatever it takes at this point. I wish you really were here to watch it with us. It took several hours and a lot of attempts, but I managed to set it up all by myself. I thought I was going to have to call those bastards at Directv to help me, but I got it! I felt really proud of myself, mostly because I think you would have been really proud of me.

Today, Stacie brought Brody and Audrey over to visit and have lunch and exchange Christmas presents with us. She stopped by shortly after you passed away but she didn’t bring the kids because she was afraid they would say something embarrassing. I was really hoping they’d do just that this afternoon, solely for our entertainment purposes, but they didn’t. Instead, when I was sitting in the living room playing Operation with them and everybody else had stepped away from the table for a minute, Brody said, “I’m really sad that Michael is dead.” Audrey nodded slowly and said, “I’m really sad too.” It was so hard for me to not break down in tears in front of those kids. I changed the subject as quickly as possible, but cried my eyes out later when I told Mom and Red about it. Little things like that and the card that came with Lucia’s plant make it SO real. It still doesn’t feel real most of the time. In fact, I feel horribly guilty for not crying as much as I should be. Red and I joke that we are pretending you are on vacation and we don’t know when you’ll be coming home. Maybe deep down I’ve really allowed myself to believe that? It’s nearly impossible for me to look at a picture of your smiling face and believe I’ll never see it again in this lifetime. Ridiculous.

Tonight we took Gooty for a ride in the truck and I feel bad that we didn’t do it sooner. We drove around looking at Christmas lights and she really enjoyed it, though I could tell she missed you and was confused because you weren’t with us. She didn’t even try to lie on my lap once. She did get to see five deer and a little dog in a sweater though. I love how conditioned she is to perk up and look out the windows when we fall below 30mph and lie down and rest whenever we exceed that. What a smart dog. I cried my eyes out when I allowed myself to acknowledge the fact that she will never take a ride with you again. It sucks.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. We will be going to Mike’s house for dinner and to exchange gifts. Am I looking forward to it? Yes, because it means getting out of the house for a couple hours and that’s kind of nice lately, no matter the reason. I’ll never be able to convince myself it’s Christmas though, because Christmas will never really be Christmas without you there.

We just saw a commercial for a movie starring Clint Eastwood, which reminds me of Uncle John saying that the older you get, the more you look like Clint Eastwood…except less warm and fuzzy. Haha! I think you were totally warm and fuzzy and I also think you do (Red and I have decided to use present tense for the rest of our lives when talking about you) look a little like Clint. Oddly enough, he was on the cover of Parade the Sunday before you died and Nic held it up and told his Mom it looked like you. Handsome man, you were.

Love,
Angie