The Best Part of Waking Up

I am not a morning person.

I never have been and I never will be. It takes me about an hour to even get to the point where I want to talk to anybody.

The morning of my dad's funeral is no exception.

I do, however, wake up before the Commander and the Chicken and start getting ready for the day.

My Mom's family and the Commander's family will come back her after the reception. Under normal circumstances, the Commander would be quite nervous about having so many people over.

But normal circumstances have now been thrown out the window.

I put the eulogy I've written in one of my dad's business notebooks. I also tape a picture of him that I found the other night on the inside flap of the notebook.

He's leaning in towards the camera, flashing his Gumby.

Gumby was the name for his middle finger on his right hand. 20 years or so ago, there was an accident at work and his middle finger was smashed. He ended up losing the tip of his finger but in the process, he gained a joke that he would use for the rest of his life.

Whenever somebody was annoying him, he would ask "Wanna see Gumby?" Without waiting for a response, he would pull out his middle finger that now bore a strange resemblance to the classic claymation character.

If I get too upset during the services, I'm hoping that picture will get me through it.

I take care of the three S's before anyone gets else gets up. After two weeks of not shaving, I have the thickest goatee of my life. But for the first time ever there are flecks of grey appearing on my chin.

I put on everything that I'm going to wear (including some sweet sunglasses) and I look in the mirror only to be shocked by what I see.

I look just like him.

VW