May 29, 2001
Mom said under the same circumstances, you would have done the same thing. I’m not sure about that. You always seemed more under control than I’ve felt most of my adult life. But times were easier then, right Pop? Maybe. I’m not sure about that either. If fact, I’m confused about most things these days. Sure wish you were here to unconfuse me, Pop.
Adult life? Mine with you contained 16 years on life’s shelf between two beers as bookends. Remember that illegal draft we shared just before I was married in 1976? I was neither old enough to drink nor marry, yet both worked out just fine. I’ve still never shared the secrets you shared with me that day. Never will. Been married to that cute little co-ed for 25 years now. I think we’re going to make it, but it hasn’t always been easy. Sure wish you were here to help us along the way, Pop.
About that second beer…our last one together. It was July of ‘91. Like always, you made the coffee that morning. That afternoon, we had a beer on the back patio. Mine went into a sick stomach and a broken heart. Yours, into a bag by your side. A few hours later, you walked me to my car and we said our last good-byes. Actually, what you said was, “See you later, son.” I’m holdin’ ya’ to that, Pop. Sure wish you were here now though, ‘cause I’m in a bit of trouble.
Remember that book you never got around to writing? Well, like I promised I would, I wrote it… for us. Sorry I sullied the family name in the process. Not the first book inspired by a jailhouse experience. Won’t be the last. Do you think the end can ever justify the means? I’m not sure. Guess I’m still confused about a lot of things. I miss you, Pop. Sure wish you were here. I’ll see ya’ later…I’m sure…I think.