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For You

I wrote this to my mother a couple months before her death, when we realized the inevitable...it was hard but I'm damned glad I did it

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A couple weeks ago, I had a long-time racing friend pass away. We were not super-close but we've been racing each other for 30 years (sheesh) so you build up some camaraderie and memories in times like that. I really wish I'd had the chance to tell him that before he passed but his family had decided to keep the whole situation quiet while he was ill, so we didn't know until it was too late. I can't help but think what a wasted opportunity for Kenny to hear the thoughts of his friends (and getting well-deserved stones-butsin') instead of it being plastered on FaceBook afterwards (with mostly the trite "sorry for your loss" comments).

I told Thea (and some close friends) that if I was in that situation then they'd better damned well tell everyone and prop me up and make me read (and enjoy) these comments or I'd haunt them in perpetuity.

So that's what this is. This is the kinda crap I'm gonna write and say about you. If you haunt me for it, so be it. But you'll have to prop yourself up and listen to it.

Well, I guess this is inevitable; it's not a situation I've emotionally accepted for myself, but it's easier to intellectually understand for others. "Death and taxes", right...?

The hard part is knowing that when I get an urge to give you a ring and give you crap (like I do), I won't be able to. Those calls are good times, damn good times, and help me level-set my own life. So I'm in the garage right now, pretending to work on a car project, while worrying about what you're going through, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. You're gonna tell me you're fine, and there's nothing I can do about your lyin' ass, but at least I want you to know you don't need to worry about me.

I want to assure you that Thea and I (and the granddogs!) are absolutely wonderful. We are happy, we are healthy (despite some of the silly things I could have done to injure that). We are financially stable and we fully expect to live out good long lives (especially if I have a lot of that Wyble/Carriere in me). We are in need of nothing, except maybe more dogs. I have no friggin' idea how, given some terrible decisions I've made in my life, I ended up in such a great place but somehow, with the grace of God, I'm in a space that I would not change for the world. I wish I could take credit for it but I can't, and I'm humbled to be where I am.

And a lot of that has to do with you.

I can also tell you that your daughters have grown up into wonderful women. I can tell you that Ray is a part of the family and we will do everything necessary to ensure his safety and comfort. I can assure you that the whole property conflicts are nothing more than a distraction (though I realize what it means to you; it means that to me as well). I will take care of all that personally.

But I am worried about you. Not so much about your physical being, there's nothing that I can do about that. I'm worried about your emotional and mental state. I'm worried about your physical pain. I'm worried that you are scared, about yourself and those around you experiencing this with you.

And I want you to know you're not alone.

When dad passed away I had already "made my peace" with him, as good as anyone could. He and I had come to a mutual understanding, a detente. He was never someone I was much close to; despite his attempts to toss around "things" like flying and cars, we never really bonded. Sure, a lot of things like flying, cars, music, trombone etc rubbed off, as it would, though I mostly tended to use that as a suggestion and went my own way. I was never really worried about whether my father was "proud" of me; honestly, I didn't care. I just wanted him to recognize my accomplishments, regardless of his "pride" or approval of them. His last words to me were for me to ensure his daughters were taken care of (natch) and I think I did that the best I could.

You...you are different. I wanted you to be proud of me. I lived with you, you raised me. You taught me my ethics and morality I use in my life today. I am clearly more you than anyone else and I cannot possibly thank you enough. I'd like to think I'm a good person and I sincerely believe it was because of you. You and I disagreed, vehemently and even physically at times, but in hindsight it seems you were usually right. And I learned from that. I no doubt said some hateful things to you but I'm confident you now see those as just a stupid juvenile being a stupid juvenile.

I'd like to think you did good. At least in my case.

These last 30-40 years of actually knowing you have been a joy (it's amazing how much smarter your parents get right around the time you turn 20). We have not spent a lot of time together due to geography and that's OK; I think the distance has made the heart grow fonder. And the times we have been together (though I generally tend to keep to myself) have been a joy.

I believe that you and I have made our peace, and that you are proud of me. I firmly believe that you know I am there with you, regardless if it's not physical.

You will always have a place in my heart not only as my mother, but as my friend.  And I hope you think of me the same.

And you know that I will "mostly" say nice things about you. ;)

All I can do is thank you. And I'll miss you when you're gone.

I really hope you enjoyed your life. I certainly did.

You did good.

Love, Greg

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