They Said It Better Than I Ever Could...

These words that I write, they keep me from total insanity. -Charles Bukowski

Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed? -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

Feb 5, 2009

Something Bad Happened...

And I am going to deal with it the only way that I know how. I am going to vent, to you. I could beat around the bush but you all know that just isn’t my style.

My Auntie Buddy passed away recently. My mom just told me when I called her to let her know that I wasn’t in any real trouble over this blog.

Now there are certain things in life that just hit you like a ton of bricks, and this is definitely one of them.

I’ll share a little bit about me, maybe some of it you already know. I have written so much that I don’t even remember what you do and don’t know.

But my father passed away when I was three years old and my brother was still a bun in the oven. Now when you are three you don’t remember a whole lot, in my case next to nothing. I mean every now and then I am in a certain place or set of circumstances or whatever and I’ll have a strange sense of déjà vu but for the most part I don’t remember a thing about my father. Hence the whole ghost thing. My Auntie Buddy was my father’s sister.

And my Auntie Buddy was one of my true links to my father. Someone I could always talk to about him and she would tell me what he would’ve said. She would always tell me how much I looked like him, and how he acted, and thought, and tell me funny stories about when they were younger, and she would always tell me how proud he would’ve been of me. And she loved me.

I hope that she knows what she meant to me. A young son without a father jealously clings to any connection he can find with his father.

She was always there. Always. Regardless of what was going on. When we were in trouble she sheltered us. (My brother and I) When we were stupid she told us so. When we needed it she gave us advice. When we needed a caring ear she was listening. When I wanted to stay up all night eating pizza and watching TV she was right there with me.

I would regale you with the stories of the funny times we spent together but I think I am going to keep those just for me. At least I made sure that I told her I loved her before I left. How dearly I wish I would’ve called her and said it just once more.

Suffice it to say that she was my Aunt and I loved her for that.
Suffice it to say that she was a link between my father and I, and I loved her for that.
Suffice it to say that she was my friend and I loved her for that.
Suffice it to say that I love her.

But all of life’s pain is over for her now. And for that I am thankful. I am sure that somewhere out there she is standing next to my father and watching over me as I write this. So here I sit with tears rolling down my cheeks thinking of her and wishing I could’ve seen her just one last time.

But I cannot, so all that’s really left to say is Goodbye…

I am done for now.

I love you…Auntie Buddy


  1. Mud Puppy,

    Thank you for including me in your "private" blog. The "thought police" are always watching and listening so beware.

    I am so very sorry to hear about your Auntie Buddy. No real words can help the pain. If anything at all try to be thankful she was with you for the time she was and for the stories she told you about your father. When the tears well in your eyes and they will, try to think of the good funny times you had with her.


  2. Hi Mud Puppy:

    I sent my condolences directly but ABNPOPPA said it best, remember the good times you had with her.

    Now the HR person in me :)I think this was a good career move to go private. Invite only those you trust so that you can speak openly with worrying about all the extemporaneous crap that goes along with forwards et al.

    Take care