I hate years that end in ‘8’s. When I was away in the Air Force a close family friend, John Foe, died in 1988. My Grandfather, (and one of my best friends) died in 1998. Lots of friends in radio and Iceland lost their livelihoods when the economy died in 2008. (And Iceland went bankrupt)….Which brings us to the end of 2018. Well, wait a minute, I need to go back to the beginning of the year.
As I went through my calendar/journal for 2018 today, I relived the jolt of January 5th….The day my heart got stuck at 150 BPM and I had to get jumpstarted back to life. (Yes, they really do yell “All Clear“). I thought that was the end of my “Years that end with 8” sorrow. I made it to the other side…Breaking the dreaded curse of the 8. No such luck.
Right when 2019 was in my sights, I was almost there, my Father passed away on October 6th. He died unexpectedly on a Saturday while my family and I were away celebrating my Daughter’s 16th birthday at Universal Studios in Florida.
I knew my Father wouldn’t be one of those people who died in his sleep. I always knew he would go doing some sort of work. My Dad was a worker, and blue collar guy through and through. When he worked for UPS I rarely saw him during the Christmas season–7a-8p was pretty much the norm delivering packages. Even so, he still found the time to play catch with me, teach me how to golf, and help rebuild the occasional engine on one of the old cars that he allowed parked in his driveway.
So, here is the thing. My Father passed on, but I got to spend some of the best quality time ever with him this year. We went to see the Air Force Thunderbirds perform, watch his favorite golfer, Bubba Watson, at the Travelers Open, see my daughter Sonja perform her first concert on lead guitar….And most importantly he got to see her turn 16—And for that I am eternally grateful…..A year of highs and lows? Yes it was, but here’s to 2018.