If Bob Marley and Roy Clark Had a Baby

Today's post is for my late Dad, Mick.

Boyyyyyyyy, do we ever miss you around here....

My Dad was a character. Always easy going, he was a little like Bob Marley.

 - But with cowboy boots, even in the summer
 - and a cig instead of a joint
 - and a plaid shirt instead of rasta braids

ok, so I am having a tough time getting there too.

He actually looked like Roy Clark.

Dad's evil twin, Roy - Its uncanny.

Ok, so not looks-wise, but in Marley-esque fashion my Dad definitely didn't worry about a thing and thought every little thing was gonna be all right.

And he made you believe it too, even when you knew you shouldn't. He would say "welllllll, sis..." And then he would try to feed you bacon or chex mix. And somehow, you felt better... for a moment.

If you had real trouble, you had better go see my mother, who was about as real as one gets and still is. She would set you on the right path and give you a little shove in the right direction. Not really a sugar-coater, that one. I am more like her. A problem solver.

But I would still float past my Dad for a fix of his unwavering confidence in my ability to dig out of the shit situation I was in, and in that glow I would believe I could do it too. My siblings and I have the highest self esteem imaginable for being so hopelessly average.

He was easy to laugh and rarely got angry. He was a terrible disciplinarian to both kids and dogs. Every person thought he was my Dad's best friend. I secretly think all of his kids thought we were his individual favorite. Except that couldn't be, because I was absolutely his favorite.

Wasn't I?

It's been 4 years, Dad. We ARE all right. But the sun shines just a *tiny* bit dimmer without you in this world.