The last laugh.

 

So last week my brother from another whatever messaged me and said he had something for my ex and myself. But he needed to get it to me quick. Being the fat ass fuck face I am, I thought it was like a high priced selection of bacon.

It wasn't.
But it was better. I guess. I suppose.

When he got to the house, he handed me Kristen's mail, then handed me my "gift". It was an envelope - and knowing he's no better off than me, I didn't think it was money, but maybe a coupon to the sizzler.

When I opened it ..

So I don't believe in heaven or hell. Ghosts, demons, or myself most the time. But the day my Dad's Urn came to me, I've NEVER felt more connected to another being before. 

When I opened that envelope, it was the same feeling.

He was here again, even if it was a fleeting second. It was him, flipping me off, saying fuck you, merry xmas - because he knows I hate this time of the year.

Always making me feel bad on Christmas, huh Dad? :)

My Dad's Eulogy.

Since 2010, I've said goodbye to my Dad on a yearly basis it seems. Moved back to Michigan. Than back to Illinois. But then We moved back to Michigan. Then we decided to move to California. That time we said goodbye, that one hurt. I flooded most of Missouri that time.

But this goodbye hurts even more.

Born to Vincent Dubay and Shirley Dubay on July 22nd, 194something. The oldest boy. Age is arbitrary at the end as is superlatives. He was my Dad for the first 30 years of my life. The last eleven, one of my best friends. That one person I could go to, to be the most honest, complete me, without judgement (at least, verbally.). 

My Dad passed away this morning after a lengthy battle with cancer. Guess he hated Christmas more than I do. 

My Dad was a A man of little education, if any .. yet, he was the smartest man I've ever met. Though he'd say some really dumb things from time to time, ask his wife, Annette. Talk about a patient woman. For as intelligent as he was, his stubbornness was probably his super power. It was his way or no way (though she had a way of letting him think it was his way when really, it was her way).

She was the best thing to ever happen to my Dad. Truly. I often wonder where my Dad would have found himself had he not met Annette. And there's no one that could have taken care of him during his sickness, like Annette. And for that, I'll be forever thankful to her.  

They loved each other like they'd known each other their entire lives. Love births eternity, even if eternity is a myth - but who of us doesn't love a good myth? 

Myth's and conspiracies were some of my father's favorite things to discuss, to read about, etc. He and my brother, Daniel, would sit around the table and recite lines of conspiracy as if they were gospel taken from the lips of a preacher. He loved Daniel with all his ever loving heart; seeing himself in the youthful shenanigans Dan often found himself in when he was younger. He lived vicariously through Dan, reliving in his mind his days in Auburn and Bay City, Michigan. 

Michigan is where my Father called home until he met Annette - on American Online, true story. That's how old they are; dating on American Online. 

He'd drive eight hours to Illinois and she'd drive eight hours to Michigan, sometimes they'd stop in Kokomo, Indiana ... But when the trips began to take longer it was time to decide ... and with a young lady that would steal his heart, his daughter Elysa, the decision was easy. 

Now, I'll never blow smoke up anyone's ass about my Dad. As a man, he was flawed - but who among us isn't? None of us get out of this world alive nor perfect. 

And my Father was not perfect. 

The pages of his history are inked with bad decisions, broken relationships and heartache. As I've said before, my Father was a stubborn man. And some relationships that were never fixed were not because he did not desire to fix them,he just sometimes didn't know how to ...

Vulnerability is not an emotion my Father had much time for. He grew up in a time when Men did not cry. I've only seen him cry one time; for his daughter, Templa, who passed from this earth before her time. He lost another daughter, Tina, earlier this year.

He loved all of his daughters. Tina, Templa and Tricia - but time and stubbornness prevented reconciliation; something I know pained him very much inside.

His stubbornness was passed through all of his children - some worse than others. 

Which leads me to Brandon. 

The youngest boy. I believe in my heart he's the proudest of this young man. For the trials and tribulations he has gone through in his own life, never quitting when some would dare not attempt. My Father was always amused by Brandon's hair pull trigger anger and his extreme frugalness (unless someone else was spending the money). 

The old joke about my Father is that he probably has 10 more kids throughout the US and Vietnam due to his time in Vietnam; they missed out. 

My Dad was married 83 times. Give or take. He loved the Detroit Red Wings, Miller Lite and Boobs on the computer. I'm not sure in which order. He was a funny man, an artistic man (though he stopped drawing when i was very young), a quiet man. 

He was many things, to many people. Some good, some bad, but he didn't give a shit. He could tell you to kiss his ass and then give ya a beer from his fridge all in the matter of minutes. 

He was a man who spoke with his eyes, not his lips. Though, on the rare occasion, his words were heavy. 

I'll never get to hear him say "Hey bud," or "I love you, son" .. but i will feel them forever. 

My only regret is that my Daughters will never have known the real Papa Dubay. They saw a shell of who he was. Charlee loved her Papa, and it'll break my heart to explain all of this to her. But i revel in the opportunity to relive every moment I had with my Father as I tell my daughters stories of their Papa. 

I am just relieved; thankful ... for his pain to be released, and that my Dad is no longer hurting. 

I will always love you, Dad. 

Your son.