A Christmas Letter to my Dad

Dear Dad:

It seems strange to write a letter to you like this. I mean, you’ve been gone now for the last two Christmases--this will be the third since you passed--and in many ways, life has moved on...as you told me it would, years ago. It's also strange to write this because you and I wrote each other very little.

And yet, tonight after Deena had gone to bed early, and I was wrapping the Christmas gifts, I found myself thinking of you. 

It still seems strange sometimes to go back home and not see you there. (Though there is a nice comfy chair there you’d love, I’m sure.) It’s really hard this time of year; I remember all the years you took pictures of us kids at the top of the stairs...and the year we all beat you to it. That flash had to be visible for a three mile radius! I remember bit and pieces from both birthdays and Christmases past: The 100 in 1 electronic kit, the Starfleet Academy manual (and Enterprise blueprints), and all the LEGO are still in my possession. (As well as more electronics, Star Trek books, and even LEGO than I ever thought I’d own in a lifetime.) Making stuffing, and having you taste it. Trips to Helen and Louie’s in the motor home. (Or, as Amy put it, “Barbie’s Dream Home.”) 

I’ve tried to hold up my end of the bargain. I promised to be a good son and watch Mom for you. I’ve tried to keep an eye on Mom without being a pest. You’d be proud of her; she gets around pretty good these days. She’s active enough, gets out of the house, and drives. She flies on her own, too. 

When we went to the Big Island, we had a GPS you’d have laughed at. My little unit butchered every Hawai’ian name. We all still laugh about it. (That, and trying to find Diamond Lil’s in Salt Lake City.) 

I’m still helping clean up the house as well...I’m going to want to discuss with you some of the more interesting findings. For example, I know you knew nobody was using serial bus ports on computers; USB connections work so much better. So why were there, what--a half dozen or so?--adaptors for serial busses? Plus the cables? 

I don’t even want to know why there were hundreds of 5 1/4 inch floppies. I do want to know where you hid the slides. Part of my early life is on those, and I’d really like to rediscover part of that. 

So many things. I know all the medals you earned in the Navy. I wish I knew how you earned them all. You never really talked about them, or much else of you Navy time. I understand why as a vet myself. I also never knew you cared much for baseball, much less were a Yankees fan. I know you never totally understood my tastes in music. (That’s okay...I never totally understood yours, either.) But you did instill a love of good music, which means I’ll never like rap. 

I also know you never could quite figure out what I saw in some of the girls I dated. That’s cool; you weren’t dating them...I was. You and Mom taught me to look past certain things, and see the person inside. I learned to see certain qualities I knew you and Mom didn’t see. That’s okay too. (I’m still trying to get the “being a good husband” thing down as well, and I am wondering if I’ll ever get it right. Even approaching 19 years of marriage--after 4 years of dating on top of that--I’m still trying to get things right.)

You’ve missed seeing me with the quartet. We have fun, and we do reasonably well. (We are getting better every week.) You watched me compete with barbershop choruses at all levels, yet due to work/guests from out of town (I don’t remember which) missed the only Command Performance I ever had in both intermediate and high school. That was hard for me to understand at the time. There were other things I never understood: how you could solve algebra in your head, and I couldn’t get the same answer twice. (And then there was the time I got one answer, you had another, the book had a third...and my instructor got a fourth answer and none of them matched.)

I remember when you told us as a family we might have a chance to live in Europe while you would be in the Middle East. As much as the education I would have gotten would have been a benefit, given the way things have turned out in the Middle East, it’s better that deal fell through.

You taught me to honor my commitments, even when not a pleasant thing to do. I guess that’s part of what pulled my butt through Moody and TEDS: I made a commitment, and by gar I wasn’t gonna quit. (No matter how badly I wanted to turn tail and run.) 

You taught me how to change a tire, spark plugs, headlights and taillights, several wiring harnesses, my own oil and oil filter, and the fuel filter. These days, I’m lucky if I can find the latch to open the hood. Changing my own oil is out of the question...no place to dump it. You also taught me to use the right tool for the job. 

In some ways, that’s a lesson I’m still learning; again this year I cut the wrapping paper for the gifts with my Swiss Army Knife. (Some things never change.) You’d have been proud of me. Yes, I still have a knife that weighs a ton. But hey--I’ve carried Swiss steel since 1976-77ish. Why stop now? 

As much as I miss you, though...I wouldn’t dream of asking you to come back here, even for a minute so I could say goodbye properly. Not only have you earned your rest, I couldn’t be that selfish to take you away from the presence of God Himself. 

And that brings me back to Christmas, and wrapping gifts. Yes, we celebrate the birth of Jesus this time of year. Knowing you’re with Him has helped--and continues to help--me deal with the fact you’re not going to be home for Christmas. It’s been hard to not find you something. I miss sending you e-mails and swapping jokes and puns. 

Mostly, though...I just miss you.

I’d better sign off now. It’s late, and I need to get some sleep. Give my love to everyone there. 

Love,

Matthew

Your World Champion San Francisco Giants

It had to happen, eventually. The law of averages finally had to catch up; surely it had to this year...didn't it? 

Last night, it finally did. 

After 33 years of waiting, I can finally say it: Ladies and Gentlemen, YOUR WORLD CHAMPION SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS!

Wow. It seems a bit surreal to a Giants fan that still has his program from his first Giants game...in 1977. (Charlie K, I don’t think I can say thank you enough for introducing me to the Orange and Black.)

I didn’t think this year was going to work out. I mean, back in August the Giants were, what? 6 1/2 games back of San Diego?  Then came September and they went 18-8, and took NL west from San Diego on the last day of the regular season. 

Then it was playoff time. They split a pair at home, then swept Atlanta at Turner  Field. Then to Philly--split a set there, won two at home, then had to go back to Philly. They couldn’t possibly win it there. But they did, and suddenly they were in the World Series.

And then it happened. 11-7 and 9-0 in the first two games. On to Texas, where I honestly expected them to lose. (They did, 4-2.) They won game 4 in a masterful game pitched by a man just barely old enough to buy a beer, Madison Bumgarner, 4-0. 

And then came game five. Tim Lincecum did what he does best: served up 8 innings of really good pitching. Brian Wilson took over in the 9th, and that was that.

This year makes up for a few things. You know, like 2002 when they collapsed to the Angels--THE ANGELS, for cryin’ out loud! Like 1994, when the strike did damage beyond the diamond. Like 1989, when more than the team collapsed: the Cypress structure, the Marina District and part of the Bay Bridge collapsed as well. (That was painful for me personally as I was in school in Chicago that year.) Like 1985, when they dropped 100 games--100!!!--and I was in Navy Boot Camp, and had to suffer through a miserable summer being away from home...and having to hear that the Giants had “...blown another game.”  And yes, like 1978 when they had some great players...and lost toward the end of the season to the Dodgers. 

There’s been a long line of Giants greats. Oh, sure--Willie Mac, Willie Mays, Orlando “The Baby Bull” Cepeda, Juan Marichal. Jack “The Ripper” Clark. Will “The Thrill” Clark. David Dravecky. Vida Blue, John “The Count” Montefusco, Robby Thompson, and Gaylord Perry. Steve “Bedrock” Bedrosian. Bob Brenly. Dave “Rags” Righetti. Yes, both Barry and Bobby Bonds. Jose Uribe. The Alou brothers. Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow. Jeff Kent and JT Snow. So many more.

Now you can add to that list Tim “The Freak” Lincecum, Brian “The Beard” Wilson, Juan Uribe (Jose’s nephew), Edgar Renterria, Pablo Sandoval, Aubrey Huff, Pat Burrell, Brian Posey, and the rest of the crew.

Managers: Roger Craig, Frank Robinson, Dusty Baker, Bruce Bochy. Class acts, all of them. Might as well mention owners and managing partners as well: Bob Lurie, Peter Magowan, and current principal shareholder Bill Nuekom. Congratulations, Bill!

A lot of good memories, too. All those night games at the ‘Stick. I still have my Croix de Candlestick, earned--the hard way--in a late night extra-inning game more years back than I want to admit. It’s the only place I’ve ever been where the American flag blew to the left and the California flag blew to the right...at the same time. You could always tell the tourists at the ‘Stick...they were blue by the middle of the fourth. (Locals brought parkas and sleeping bags.) We won’t talk about the fog. (Or that miserable crab mascot, either.) 

And when I couldn’t go to a game, I often listened on the radio or on TV. Lon Simmons, Hank Greenwald, Ron Fairly, Duane Kuiper and Mike Krukow. KSFO at first, then KNBR. TV was KTVU forever, with a lot of the same names.

I have a lot of Giants gear: The warmup jacket, a jersey, wristbands, several fitted hats (one of which still fits), pennants, buttons, a tie, programs, Giants magazines, some pocket schedules, a stuffed bear in a Giants t-shirt, and a baseball card of me in a Giants jersey and hat. (And even more stuff, including several years worth of Mother’s Cookies baseball cards.) I know I’ve driven people crazy sometimes--I’m okay with that. 

This came so fast that San Francisco fans didn’t quite know how to celebrate: only five known arrests as of this morning. Me? I celebrated quietly, made a few phone calls and called it a night. Too much to do today.

However...I’ve been a Giants fan for a long time, and this has been a long time coming. 

I tip my hat to the G-Men...the World Champions!