rekkidblogga

Greetings like 'The Merriest'

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. And Happy Hanukkah.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 11:35 PM 1 Comments

Maurice Darlin'

Maurice Darlin'.

It's what my nieces call my dad. Cinnamon started it, like she starts everything. She heard my mom call my dad that back when she was a little girl - like before I was born, even - and she just thought that was his name. So she never calls my dad "Maurice" or "Grandfather"; it's always "Maurice Darlin'."

And her girls, both in elementary school, call him "Maurice Darlin'," too. Except being the kind of girls who care so much about good grammar, it comes out more like "Maurice Darling," which I think has a nice little touch of classiness to it.

My mother has always called my dad Maurice and when people ask me my father's name, I say "Maurice." When I was little he was just "Daddy." Growing up, it became "Dad" more often than not but when it was just us talking, it was still "Daddy."

His family called him Ed, Eddie or Edward. That was his first name. But "Maurice Darlin'" is who he really was and it's the nickname that we'll put in my dad's obituary tomorrow and in whatever memorial pamphlet that is handed out Tuesday at his service. My daddy passed on this morning after being sick for a long time and he was at total peace. It was indeed a blessed way to pass on and I'm sure that right now, my dad is probably trying to explain to St. Peter that yes, he's on the list and that checking under "Maurice Darlin'" one more time is worth a shot.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 6:16 PM 1 Comments

Days grow shorter

My father is back in the hospital again, less than a month after he was released from his last stay. I'm not sure if he will be coming home this time.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 12:59 PM 4 Comments

Paper moon

This evening I uncharacteristically drifted off to sleep on the couch for an hour or so. Right around 8:30 my eyelids felt as if Mister Sandman had placed 25-lb. bags on each of them and staying awake suddenly wasn't an option. Sleep beckoned like an old-time carnival barker, waggling a tempting index finger at me, smiling with the knowledge that, yes, I would be easily taken in.

Swaddled in flannel pajamas and a warm fleece blanket, my day and all its hassles lost the battle for my consciousness. Once I had finally given in, closing my eyes even for such a short time, my mind was at rest. During my nap, in that odd realm of sleep that remains forever a mystery to us, it was nice to be shrouded in the inviting, inky blackness that appeared to be there but perhaps never truly was.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 11:13 PM 2 Comments

Kicks and giggles

Last night, leaving work at an ungodly hour again, my co-worker and I lamented our collective fate. Resigned to this lot in life where our weekends are currently spent in the grey confines of the newsroom, we joked about how fabulous our social lives as thirtysomething young women were going of late.

My own boss had called earlier that night, asking if I could work overtime - almost unheard of at our newspaper - because my colleague wouldn't be back from New Jersey today in time for her night shift. I said it was no problem to work the 6 p.m.-2 a.m. graveyard haul.

Walking out into the freezing night air, I told my co-worker about this, how my boss had plaintively asked "Can you work Saturday night?"

"Of course I told him yes," I said to my friend as we made our way to our cars. "I mean, what girl wouldn't want to spend her Saturday night here at the newspaper, posting copy and photos online?"

She laughed out loud, cracking a joke, and we laughed some more. We said we'd see each other -- tonight -- at another regular meeting of our girls' social club, got into our cars and drove off into the frigid night.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 12:10 PM 1 Comments