yet even
When I was at the abandoned house that I grew up in, emptying the scattered contents of my dad's bedroom, I came across a calendar on which he had recorded the weather. It was a week in January, sometime in the late 70's. On Monday he had written "snowed all day, 6 inches". The next day, he again commented on the snow fall amounts. By the end of the week he was writing "still snowing". On Saturday of that week he wrote "yet even!".
"Yet even" has become a phrase my sister and I now use, in memory of my father. We use it most frequently about the winter weather. I will call her and ask "Is it still snowing?". She will say "Yet even". Or I will say "Is Ray (my alcoholic brother) still drinking". "Yet even", she will reply.
I can see my dad, sitting in his cluttered bedroom that no one, not even my mom (after his head injury) was allowed to enter and certainly not clean, writing about the weather. I guess he did this in between shoveling snow with his home made snow scoop and chopping wood to keep the house warm. I wonder if he was lonely. I wonder what all went on in his head. My daughter said he was under rated. I think he was. I know he was philosophical and mostly an optiimistic who liked to think the best of people. I also know he could be mean but maybe it was because he was afraid of what he was losing as he aged. I think he also was aware of his shortcomings and the things that he could have done differently....like all of us. Many people wrote him off as being damaged after his head injury. I don't think he was and I think he had a lot of deep thoughts.
In his room, I also found a letter from someone he had submitted a poem to, suggesting other places to submit it - sort of a rejection letter. My dad was a poet and a writer and I found some evidence of that. I never found his poem that he wrote about "Three Finns in a Sauna, each one looking for the soap - Urho thought he found it, but Toivo's heart was filled with hope. It was something he was really proud of but it is probably gone, like he is.
His old bedroom in the old house is pretty close to being empty. But I still miss my dad. Yet even.
"Yet even" has become a phrase my sister and I now use, in memory of my father. We use it most frequently about the winter weather. I will call her and ask "Is it still snowing?". She will say "Yet even". Or I will say "Is Ray (my alcoholic brother) still drinking". "Yet even", she will reply.
I can see my dad, sitting in his cluttered bedroom that no one, not even my mom (after his head injury) was allowed to enter and certainly not clean, writing about the weather. I guess he did this in between shoveling snow with his home made snow scoop and chopping wood to keep the house warm. I wonder if he was lonely. I wonder what all went on in his head. My daughter said he was under rated. I think he was. I know he was philosophical and mostly an optiimistic who liked to think the best of people. I also know he could be mean but maybe it was because he was afraid of what he was losing as he aged. I think he also was aware of his shortcomings and the things that he could have done differently....like all of us. Many people wrote him off as being damaged after his head injury. I don't think he was and I think he had a lot of deep thoughts.
In his room, I also found a letter from someone he had submitted a poem to, suggesting other places to submit it - sort of a rejection letter. My dad was a poet and a writer and I found some evidence of that. I never found his poem that he wrote about "Three Finns in a Sauna, each one looking for the soap - Urho thought he found it, but Toivo's heart was filled with hope. It was something he was really proud of but it is probably gone, like he is.
His old bedroom in the old house is pretty close to being empty. But I still miss my dad. Yet even.
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