Girly Shoes: He's Dead, Jim

Yesterday, I lost another one of mine. My sistergirlfriendgirl's dad passed away. I spent so much of my childhood in her home, that her parents were a second set of parents to me. But, unlike my own, hers were larger than life. They had a pet lion for a while.

Her mother was tall, with an armful of gold bangles half way to her elbow. She had a huge laugh, a talent for flower arranging, and another for needlepoint. She made her own needlepoint patterns. She smoked and wore gold flowered sandals and long Hawaiian mumus. I was in awe of her.

Their home always had a jigsaw puzzle in progress on a table in the living room. There were shelves and shelves of books, and dishes of shells and found objects; there was always something new to discover on a shelf, or a new photo in the collage of family photos in the hallway.

Her father had lily and chysanthemum farms. Acres and acres of purple, yellow, rust flowers under the black shade cloth. In the 60s, if you bought a potted Easter lily, or wore a chrysanthemum corsage, it probably came from their farms. He became a bee keeper by accident when a swarm built a hive in an empty lily bulb crate. He fished and hunted and swore and cooked. Like my own father, he could (and did) build a bbq pit out of an empty oil barrel, some cinder blocks and a piece of wire fence.

Do they even make men like that anymore? I don't think so. Nor women like her mother, although I do my best to emulate her. My home has a lot of elements that I remember or think I remember about hers, too.

Anyway. It's a good thing that I'd put down the better part of a bottle of red when I got the news about her dad, because a couple of hours later the Apple store called to tell me that my laptop was unrecoverable, and they'd had to put in a new hard drive.

It's all gone. All of it. Fuck me blue.

Oh no. On so many levels...oh no. I lost that "dad" last year so totally understand what you mean. I also lost an entire hard drive of info including all of my creative writing not once but twice. Now nothing so extreme as a novel but all of my poetry and short stories except for a few hard copies that I had floating around. I was also told that same thing about backing up my shit. I'm so sorry sweetie...sending you out some big, big love.

Our family will always remember Uncle Dick or Unk as we often called him because when my kids were little and we went over to their house, Dick and Jean played with the kids and always made them so happy. Lots of laughing and fun in that house and we always wanted to go back. they had very strong opinions and we respected that. Goodbye to a wonderful era.
Just got a sweet note from Unk about three months ago telling me how proud I should be of my , daughter, Gretchen's artwork. Wish I could be at that celebration and thank him for that.

Dick was a hell of a man.........Big man, thunderous voice.............and a loud boisterous laugh.......but a big heart.........very thoughtful and caring man....another good one has crossed over............by the way........its probably getting a little crowded over there.....alot of our family have already crossed over...... He will be missed!

Thanks so much for bringing so many forgotten pieces of the memories from 30+ years back to be held and appreciated again. Jean............yes, the description brought her back and alive ~ I can hear her laughter!!
They *were* my surrogate parents on many weekends for the 2 years my dysfunctional parents put me in boarding school. Everything happens for a reason and a big part of that was the chance to meet and experience these larger than life people.
Playing Red Light with Dick driving us wild teenagers around and whooping just as loudly! Their animals, for sure. And today I have a Corgi because of knowing their Griffy.
I remember little of my own father's funeral and Irish wake but I woke up with my big head in the familiar and comforting surroundings of the Hupfels and was grounded, at least for that space of time.
Life's memories have for me become suspended moments in time and hearing of Poppa Hupfel's departure has left a hole in my heart. He was so much larger than life and as has been said, a REAL man. It hurts knowing he is gone from this life. But yet how wonderful for Lucy and Marsha to have had so many years to enjoy and share with him. He was always full of fun and adventure and their memories are the stuff that storybooks are made of.
Goodbye for now, Poppa Hupfel, XXOO