Down the road in your life
You'll look in the mirror
And say "My parents are still alive"
-"Doin' The Cockroach" -- Modest Mouse
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I bought my dad fried chicken from Church's for Father's Day. It's his favorite. It's lame, it's too simple but it makes him happy to just have the chicken. My dad is easy to please, but still manages to be a bitch to shop for. I started this tradition a few years ago when I was looking for a gift card for my dad to get Church's chicken. It was right after I got my first job as a Barista and my first time paying for a Father's Day gift with money I slaved over espresso machines and catered to asshole customers for. He broke his ankle that year and was hobbling around everywhere, making it difficult to do the simplest of tasks. They didn't have gift cards, so I settled with buying 15 pieces of deep fried chicken limbs. He loved the chicken and the thought behind it, and I kept it an ongoing tradition.
He's one those who appreciates the small things and simple gestures. He smiled from ear to ear, but he got a special treat--having my brother hand deliver the chicken. My brother and dad haven't had the best relationship in the past few years but, again, things like my brother coming over for a little bit to hang out with him makes my dad happy. It supplies hope that things could change between them.
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I forgive you, mother, I can hear you
And I long to be near you
But every road leads to an end
-"Death with Dignity"--Sufjan Stevens
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Today would have been my mother's 54th birthday. The first day of Summer, the longest day of the year. My mother always loved the summer seasons because it meant she could tan and hang out at the beach all day. My mom didn't get burned too often, but rather turned into a nice golden brown from her fair, olive complexion. Her Italian ancestry helped her not burn in the Summer sun but her Nordic roots made her look red during the off season when her tan had faded.
My mom was also difficult to shop for. She was picky with clothing, she liked only a certain shade of her favorite color, purple, and candles had to be a certain scent for her to light them. One thing was always the same--her choice of perfume. White Diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor had always been her signature scent. She would beam whenever my brother and I would buy a fresh bottle for her on holidays and birthdays. The perfume is hardly cheap--it's between $40-$60 a bottle and she would spritz it on herself multiple times a day--going as far as carrying it in her purse if she was going to an all day event. She would need a new bottle by the month's end. It was coincidental when Elizabeth Taylor passed away three days after my mother did. Like it was the end of an era.