What a Week

It's going to be a busy week. I started a new script and I'm also starting a new TV pilot script. (VERY different than my first TV pilot, the sitcom "Glitter City". This one is darker, edgier and sexier. Stay tuned.) We are prepping for the read through of the second episode of The Vegas show next week at the Smidgits studio and I am taking over the official blogging duties for the Smidgits.

I guess the biggest thing this week is the Fourth of July. We are planning a barbecue/movie/Wii tournament. We like lots of activity on the fourth. Mostly because the fifth is the anniversary of my dad's passing and we try to keep my mom from feeling too sad. It's nine years this year. It's strange because it feels like no time at all and yet feels like forever at the same time.

My father was a huge presence in this world. Love him or hate him (or both as I did throughout my teenage years) you couldn't deny his life force. He was truly the smartest man I have ever known and while I would never marry a man just like my dad, I could never marry any one less intelligent than he. He taught me to love to read. He gave me a love of all things technological. He gave me Star Wars and Indiana Jones and taught me how to take care of my car. And he was the world to my mother.

I thought my mother would disappear after my dad died. Literally. She's not a big woman to begin with but she got even smaller. She was eighty pounds and looked a lot like a concentration camp survivor. She cried more than I had seen her cry my whole life. But she got a little better, piece by piece. It was like watching a hollow cup fill back up, one drop at a time. He was her whole world, especially because Will and I were older. I tried my best to take care of her and of Will because I felt that I had to. (I was the oldest and I could hear my dad's voice, telling me to take care of them for him.) And after a while, it felt like the world would turn itself right again. Then my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer and the world spun out of control again. But instead of retreating, we met the challenge head on. Most amazing was my mother. That was the worst experience of my life (so I can only imagine what it was like for her) and she came through it stronger and more her own person than I could ever have imagined. I still remember the day we found out that she was in remission. After I dropped her off at home, I was driving and I had to pull over to the side of the road because I was crying and I felt my dad, telling me that it was all right and that he was proud of me. Now my mom is feisty and she stands up for what she wants more. (Don't get me wrong, she still can't make a left hand turn.) But we still miss my dad.

Maybe it's because I'm back home, living in the house I grew up in, but I miss him more now than before. Maybe it's because I don't have to take care of my family as much as I did before. I now appreciate immensely the job he did for our family. I know he would be so proud of my mom. He would be happy that my brother is getting married and I think he would like Val. He would LOVE the Wii and TiVo. He would HATE the price of gas and he'd be a terrible driver (he was so mad at stupid drivers nine years ago, imagine how road raged he'd be today!)

I hope your Fourth of July is wonderful. Ours will be full of laughter and family time. It won't be perfect because I know that at least for Will and Mom and me, we will be thinking of dad, just a little. But the burgers will be good and the Wii will get competitive and we will celebrate a different kind of independence.

Oh, and there will be sparklers. I'm going to take a picture of my grandma with one. She's going through her second childhood so I can't wait to see her face. Have a great Fourth!