I don’t have the words right now to talk about how much he will be missed. But, I am so very thankful that I was able to communicate to him through this blog many times just how I felt about him. Kylie and I read an edited version of a post I wrote to him on Fathers Day and it is below. The service was just as perfect as it could be, complete with heartfelt remembrances, a piper, a slideshow of photos of his life and a playlist of his favorite music.

Each night at dinner Harrison has raised his glass and made a toast to him – some of my favorites:

“To Grandpa. Thank you for being my friend.”

“To Grandpa. Thank you for reading to me.”

“To Grandpa. Thank you for being a great grandpa.”

“To Grandpa. Thank you for being my daddy’s friend.”

***

A TRIBUTE TO MY DAD

by Aimee Blase

This is a shortened version of a tribute I wrote to my dad on Father’s Day of this year and published on our family blog. He asked that I read it at his service.

What a man my dad is. An old-school boot-straps man. A no-nonsense, no-silliness kind of man who raised two of the silliest daughters on earth. Two of the shriekingest little girls you could ever imagine. A man who must have stored away any irritation of said silliness deep down inside because I never once heard him raise his voice to tell us to SHUT-UUUUUP! But, then, he never would have used that word. Because in his calm, quiet way he didn’t have to. We respected him absolutely and still do. A look from that man and you know it’s time to chill.

My dad has been my teacher, my mentor, my coach and my sister’s and my creator of magic.

Part of the backyard of our San Ramon house was dad’s vegetable garden. Kylie and I would run, walk and bike through the cement paths that dad made (not for us, but, to make caring for his vegetables easier) little did he know how many adventures those paths took us on. We would often play that we were orphans running away from an evil caretaker and we would fill our pockets with sugar snap peas for the long journey ahead. I, as the older sister, would dole out sustenance as needed. The peas grew tall to form massive walls and the fragrance of the tomatoes and squashes was intoxicating – to this day fresh tomatoes sitting in the sun will transport me back to that place. That magic place. Closer to the house was the terraced walls up to the back fence. Lovely big boulders with the most amazing tiny flowers and mossy ground cover winding in and out. There was no more perfect place for Strawberry Shortcake and gang to live. He created a world of magic for us. I’m not sure that was his goal or that he actively bought plants that appeared to our tiny eyes as the foliage of fairy tale lands, but, that’s what he did.

Dad as Teacher. Of course there was help with homework – I mean, the man is a MENSA Member (read: “NERD”) But, what I really remember, is my dad teaching me to draw. It was pretty standard figure-drawing type stuff which lead to a few mediocre landscapes done while on family vacations. But, it was very special time between us. He also guided me into graphic design. He took a youthful notion of “sure, it might be fun to design stuff for a living” and took me to a design show at the Contemporary Art Museum, took me to a graphic design firm’s studio for a tour, bought me books and helped me create a portfolio out of thin air to attempt entrance into Cal Poly’s design program – a program that I didn’t make, thankfully. Because as we all know, Fresno — really, the hub of high-minded design — was waiting for me. While dad always was and is a quiet man of few words I always knew how proud he was of me. And I always wanted and still want to do better… be better — for him.

Dad as coach. Another amazing thing my dad and I did together was softball. After overcoming a rocky first year with my first team — “Bill’s Bunch” he became a very successful head coach — taking many of our teams to the playoffs — and as my greatly under appreciated pitching coach. It’s been forever since I played competitive softball but, I can still feel the nervous excitement and the feeling of being at home on the pitcher’s mound with my dad looking on from the dugout. I had some speed but, couldn’t ever really tame my arm which lead to a lot of strikeouts as well as walks. Dad was my rock through the walks, injuries and losses, but, also through the championship-wins and strikeouts. He never got angry or stressed – or if he did, he certainly didn’t show us kids. And, now, that I am playing a competitive sport as an adult I realize how much time and effort he gave to us. I realize the countless, thankless hours he put in helping me practice. Those years didn’t just improve my ability to throw a ball at a target, those years made me learn about myself – about how strong I actually am, about overcoming, about leadership, about humility and about striving to better myself.

Dad as mentor. I have always been a bit – OK a lot – spontaneous. And for a man as careful as my dad, I imagine letting me find my own way must have been challenging. Upon hearing that rather than heading to San Francisco to pursue a sensible job in advertising I was going to Truckee to be a waitress and snow boarder, I imagine my dad’s heart must have broken more than a little. But, he bit his tongue and allowed me the freedom to make my own mistakes. Luckily in the end all that craziness turned into a pretty amazing life. And while I talk about dad as this buttoned-down, serious, smarty pants – there is actually a bit of that same risk-taker in him. He is an entrepreneur – has started many businesses and figured it out on his own. It takes a brave and kind of crazy person to take a risk like that. He is a dreamer – born in the city, he always wanted a piece of land away from it all, so, with $5,000 between he and his sister, they purchased an acre of land in the podunk town of Truckee and built a house on it. My dad taught me in roundabout ways how to trust yourself and how to create an amazing life. Even though we seem different, in many ways I have been following in my dads footsteps for most of my life.

My dad, along with my incredible mom of course, built a remarkable family. My dad, without having a really great model of what a father should be, is all that I could have ever asked for. I am so incredibly lucky for this life. And I wish for Harrison that I am able to give the same kind of patient wisdom, gentle nudges toward greatness and constant love that I got from my dad.

I love you so very much dad.
Thank you for everything.

Listening: Jimmie Rodgers

Burgers, beers, playground = awesome.

Listening: Jared Mees & The Grown Children

Marc came with the kid and though it was a late night and H didn’t get to sleep until 9:45pm and woke up at 6am, I was so glad they came. Harrison (Lil ‘Sinner) got to play with Sam (Demon Spawn) all night which he LOVED.

Marc and Harrison are two of the founding members of the LOCAL 666 – the Hell Marys fan club. Which you too can join to support us in our efforts rebuild the team!!

Listening: Middle Brother

That is exactly the problem – misguided/misunderstood expectations, changed plans, really anything unexpected will, as I mentioned yesterday, freak the little dude out. It is super helpful to know that others are dealing/have dealt with the same issues. Also – Ginger (the woman that runs H’s school, and has done so for 30+ years) always sets us at ease. In her calm, don’t-worry-honey-you-are-not-that-special-way she told us that it’s just a phase and that at this age they just hate transitions. Any transitions. Going from the house to the park, from the house to school, from school to home. In fact I’m eager to try out the theory this Saturday as we are planning a trip to Sea World in San Antonio – we’ll see if the promise of roller coasters is enough to get him to enjoy actually leaving the house.

Listening: Cloud Nothings

Harrison is only a few short months away from turning three and for the bulk of his twos he has been remarkably un-terrible. But, believe-you-me, he is making up for lost time – between finally getting his last two molars and being sick this kid has been an absolute pain in the arse for the past couple weeks. He seems literally out of his noggin. He gets so upset that he has trouble forming sentences. Clenches his fists with fury, growls and shakes his entire body. He will tell you he doesn’t want to do something then throw a fit a second later because he has changed his mind. Will scream at me at the top of his lungs “NOOOOOOOO, I DON’T WANT ANY MILK!” – OK crazy town, I will refrain from bringing you any beverages in the future.

The thing is all of this behavior feels scarily familiar. I can actually remember doing these exact same things. Some of my memories may be because of stories my mom has related to me, but, sometimes in the middle of his outburtsts my brain flashes back to one of my tantrums as a child and my chest tightens and I feel exactly the way he does.

But, just because I can relate this insanity doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Listening: Cut Copy

Marc’s parents have been with us for a week or so and we’ve been too busy to entertain them at all. However, with my first-ever derby bout and a travel game to Colorado last weekend and two major projects launching today/tomorrow, having them in town has been an absolate blessing.

Listening: The ridiculous, giggle-explosion of wrestling with Grandpa and Grammy

So, H hastily removed his coat and vest and without so much as a “See ya, Dad.” was escorted away with Bella and Rhodes into the back room.

Both Bella and Rhodes are about to turn 4. In fact Harrison was recently moved from the 2-year old class to the 3-5 year olds because he’s friends with all the big kids and “I don’t like to play with babies.”

Listening: Braids

And boy did we ever receive!

Marc, Harrison and I were lucky enough to receive plane tickets to fly back for Christmas courtesy of two very special grandparents and aunty. It was beyond generous and we are extremely grateful. Because without that we would have had to decorate our own house, cook for ourselves and do our own dishes! In all seriousness it was amazing to be able to spend what will likely be our last family Christmas in California. Which, when we think about not getting to see the Katos every year for the extraordinary meal and revelry, makes me incredibly sad. So, thank you mom, dad and Kylies for getting us out there!!!!

Harrison got a ridiculous haul again – half of which is in route via UPS because it wouldn’t fit in the suitcases.

So Merry Christmas everyone… on the last day of January!

Listening: Black Mountain

Harrison takes a little swat at Cole a tough little blond kid whom Harrison both fears and looks up to.

Cole: “Don’t hit me.”

Harrison: “OK… Are we best friends now?”

Cole: “No, we’re not.”

And while that exchange certainly doesn’t scream friendship let alone love, last week Harrison did finally make some progress.

Harrison: “Cole, can I give you a hug?”

Cole: “No, I’m too big for hugs.”

This went on for a week or so with various attempts at some friendly affection. Then finally out of nowhere, when Harrison was leaving school, Cole approached him, gave him a huge hug and kissed him on the lips. It was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. Right up there with this gem of Harrison and Finny from a year ago:

Listening: Cults

1. Finances – we have been scrambling to take on and get out as much work as we can as we find ourselves taking on another mortgage (losing a renter and putting your rental property on the market means an immediate loss of income and triple-gain of stress). However, we have faith that the loft will sell. And we are getting tons of work, now we just need those clients to PAY US!

2. Roller Derby – tryouts… are… still… going… they started 8 1/2 weeks ago which when written out like that doesn’t seem that long – although, the counting down the months, weeks, days is all too reminiscent of the countdown to not being pregnant anymore. The two situations are quite similar: I am swollen, ache all over, nervous as hell and am completely unsure of the outcome and what life will be like when this is all over. That said – it’s still a blast and I love it. I should know “Wednesday, November 10″, no – “sometime this week”, “by Monday at the latest”… if I made it and what team I’m on. Not having an true end date is like being the size of a whale and having a baby stuck inside you refusing to vacate.

3. Harrison – is pretty awesome. He is definitely two. But, his attempts for control of household power through laid out crying fits on the floor are so feeble that it has made it incredibly easy to ignore. And when he’s being charming – oh man – ladies better watch out. Yesterday while picking him up from school Marc, Harrison and I exited through the gate where our bikes were waiting. The other kids on the playground think that bikes are cool – so, they come to watch Harrison leave. Well, yesterday Cole, Linus and Bella came to see him off. And while oblivious-Harrison was doing somersaults on the hill with his helmet on, Bella was quietly professing her love:

Bella: “Harrison… Harrison… … … I love you. Harrison, I love you… … Har- Harrison?”

Harrison: “Look at me mommy!”

Me: “Harrison, did you hear what Bella said – that was very nice. Would you like to go say goodbye and see ya tomorrow?”

Harrison: walks over to the fence, doesn’t even give Bella the courtesy of a glance, asks for Linus’ hand through the fence and shakes it, “Nice to meetcha. Nice to meetcha, Linus, sir.”

Bella: “Um… Harrison, I love you, I want you- … I love you, I want you to make birthday cakes with me.”

I attempt to get Harrison to at least say thank  you and that he will consider her invitation to make birthday cakes and he does with a flippant, “Maybe – see ya!” And at that moment I am thankful that Harrison is liked by his friends. And I’m thankful that we both get to pick him up from school on our bikes. And thankful that at this age I am pretty darn sure that “making birthday cakes” isn’t new slang for something dirty.

Listening: The Sea & Cake