This Shouldn't Be Funny...

... but it so totally is!

The greatest euphemism of all time: Go get the paper.

Random memories are randomly on my mind at all times and this one I find hilarious.

There was a pretty long era previous to my Mom and Dad's separation wherein my Dad would disappear on benders for periods of time. Sometimes it was just a few days and sometimes months. Sometimes he would take the motor home with him. Sometimes he would just disappear into thin air, poof!

We never knew where he would go but we knew where he said he was going... to get the paper.
This, typically, would be how it took place:

1. Everyone wakes up like normal.

2. Dad says he's going to the mini mart for the morning paper, coffee, and a bear claw. (The bear claw was totally his thing. There was even a bear-claw wrapper in his truck's tool box when he died.)

3. Dad doesn't come home.

4. Get a phone call from a rehab down by the beach several months later. Or from a friend whom he contacted, etc.


Going to get the paper quickly became an inside joke, an eyebrow raiser, in our family.

I distinctly remember one morning when he said he was going to get the paper. He seemed nervous, agitated. I shot Andrea a glance. I almost wanted to laugh because we openly discussed Dad 'getting the paper' and we both sensed this was one of those times, but my stomach was sick because I knew what going to get the paper entailed and sure enough...

Poof!

Another time, I was playing in the driveway. He was headed to the motor home. He made a little chit chat with me and I could smell what was coming a mile away. I could tell he was exiting and it was awkward as he tried to exit UNawkwardly. As if I couldn't sense it! As if I wasn't going to think it was odd he was driving the motor home away by himself on a weekday morning! But bless his heart for trying to linger longer with me on the driveway. What was going on in that poor man's head and soul? What demons he faced!

We still use the phrase. Did so-and-so go get the paper? Did Dad go get the paper? Dad went to get the paper. (Dad abandoned us.)

This totally doesn't make me sad; it makes me laugh. Maybe I need a psychiatrist but I truly find it funny. I feel totally whole and all I feel is my love for my Dad. Thinking of him getting the paper is actually endearing. I ache for his pain. Am I in denial? I really don't think so. I truly only feel my love for him.

Oh, Dad. He really was so funny. I guess you'd just have to know him.