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Rated: 13+ · Book · Family · #818265
After my father's suicide in 1979, his family and I lost eachother. Until now.
#278636 added February 21, 2004 at 5:30pm
Restrictions: None
Finding out what just how much in common
-----Original Message-----
From: Uncle Randy
Sent: Saturday, February 21, 2004 10:35 AM
To: Patty
Cc: Lisa
Subject: Morning Again

Thank-you for sharing the feelings your words show Patty. I guess I never knew you well. I never new you to write...at least not like that...it is beautiful. Did I tell you how beautiful your daughter was?

I am home this Saturday morning from my second graveyard shift of six straight. I work on the Vancouver waterfront at a grain elevator. Railcars
bring the grain from the prairies of Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba to us where we unload it, process it and load it onto ships bound over the
Pacific to all those places over there on the other side. Its drudgery and I used to hate it, but my family is safe, warm, comfortable and have few
serious worries so I don't hate it, I just do it. It was a good union job that belonged to my father-in-law for 30 years and he gave it to me so his
daughter's family would at least have the life his did. I am more grateful now than I used to be. I stare at the grand skyline that is Vancouver
across the waters of Burrard Inlet and sometimes remember I was on a ship when I first came here, sitting on its deck, a hangover holding me down to a
chair that was far from the bed I longed for. It was the summer of 1986 and everything was so breathtaking I thought what a lucky guy I am to be sitting
here a sailor getting paid to look at this view. I still get paid to look at that view even though sometimes I take for granted that it was finally
the dream that came true.

It really is good to find you safe. One of the last stories I heard was from Eugene who paints everything a bit gloomy and dark anyway. The feeling
I got was that you were lost in the jungle and from the sounds of it that was pretty close.

I was a sailor the last time I remember talking to you. I called you from a room in Hawaii where a shipmate and I were shooting cocaine into our veins.
I may not have mentioned that at the time but I bet I sounded pretty happy. By the next morning I wasn't. We fought locals in a bar and ended up in a
hospital waiting for a doctor to sew up a friends face. Tracks on our arms we barely made it back to the ship before it sailed. I couldn't even tell
you the year...84-86? but you were still in Texas I guess because I had your number.

That ship eventually docked in Vancouver and I spent three beautiful months of summer with Debbie who would be my wife. 86-88 she went with me to Pullman Washington where I finally graduated with B.A. in Communications,then to Wenatchee Washington to be a local television celebrity and back up to Vancouver in 89 to work for a local Sports broadcast for two years. At some point the urge to provide a better life for my growing family took priority over my personal dreams. Alexander Julius after Debbies and my Dad was born in September of 88. Lucille Mae after Lucille Ball ( we were watching TV in bed one night ) and my mom's middle name came in April of 91 and Larry in August of 93. Awhile before Lucy came I took my
father-in-law's offer, signed on for the good union job, bought a house in the suburbs and settled into the life I lead to this day.

I really must close for now but this feels like something that could go on for a while eh? ( get the Canadianism? ) so until the next, I remain,

Very truly yours

Randy


Creativity is the willingness to express emotion and the ability to explore it without perfection.
© Copyright 2004 L Mckiernan (UN: lrmckiernan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
L Mckiernan has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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