My brother & Dad, The Two Towers, Opening Day, 2002
My dad and I saw every LOTR movie together 2 or 3 times in the theater. When I found out the first Hobbit movie was going to open December 14th, on the anniversary of my dad’s death, I cried.
I’m on the worst day of my period, my dad died four years ago, there is a new Tolkien movie in theaters. The 14th is somehow always momentous. 1 year ago I got a jury summons on this day, 2 years ago I went to Disney World, 3 years ago a Christmas party where the band played my parents song, 4 years ago I said goodbye to my dad for the last time, except I didn’t, I said “see you tomorrow”. It is always the worst day of the year. Somehow it is the day I let myself fully realize again that I can’t just… see him, anymore. I saw my dad more than most of my family the year before he died, he was the only person who ever just… stopped by. He didn’t stop by for a couple of months before he got sick because he had gotten in with a bad crowd. Like a teenager. In a nebulous way its their fault he died when he did, but I guess it was coming, anyway. Or maybe not? I don’t think it was my dad’s fault he was so impressionable. I would rather think of his sweet excitement about going to see LOTR movies in the theater, over and over. How impressed he was, not how impressionable. How very very wonderful he thought wonderful things were. That’s who he really was.