Parliament and Vikings

It's been 15 days since the mountain fell on me.

Today was... I dunno... today was a day. I don't know else to describe it. I got out of bed at noon, and just felt like crawling under the covers and watching the sun watch me until it hid beneath the horizon. But I didn't. I rose, a shambled around the house like an extra from the Walking Dead. I made peanut butter something for breakfast, and played some video games, and washed some clothes and pretended to go about my day. But I didn't I was on autopilot and I know it. My counselor said I didn't want any medicine that would numb my pain, but I'm not so sure. I know that grieving and sadness is a natural part of this equation and experience, but fuck that. Sunlight is a natural part of the world but we have all sorts of sun glasses, and tinted windows and sun block and air conditioning to mitigate the effect of the sun. So just because something is natural doesn't mean that

I've been thinking about personal ways to honor my dad. I have a small urn of his ashes, and I am going to take some of them to a Parliament Funkadelic concert at the end of the month in Detroit, and spread some there. He LOVED Parliament Funkadelic.. absolutely loved that band... I think it would be fitting to spread some of his ashes there. One of my favorite memories, in fact one that I shared at his memorial service was when he and my mom went to go see Parliament Funkadelic in DC. My dad was an old school DJ so he was ready for the Funk! He had on a hoodie, and some boots, and a baseball cap, and he was looking like he was ready to hit a mosh pit. My mother, had on a blue dress with heels and pearls and a pretty Sunday Hat. My pop said "We ain't going to no Jazz Concert", and he laughed while she went upstairs and changed clothes. I remember how PROUD he sounded when I went and finally saw Parliament Funkadelic live. the had come down to Lansing's Common Ground Festival in 2009, and I took my now wife, then girlfriend Monica to go see them. I remember him laughing when I told him she asked... "Why is that guy wearing a diaper?" and "Why is there a male stripper wearing roller skates and wings?"  and "Why is he climbing the speakers?".... he laughed and laughed and laughed, and I felt like he was proud of me for going..it gave us one more tng to connect on, one more thing to talk about.

 I'm also thinking about giving some of his ashes a Viking Funeral this weekend. It will be Father's Day, the first Father's Day without him there. I'll be up with some cousins by Lake Michigan.
There is something primal and earth and raw about a Viking Funeral. And even though my father wasn't a pillaging european with a horned hat, he survived 2 brain surgeries in less than 8 months. That makes him a warrior to me.

DAY 3 OF CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN

and I feel like I'm at the bottom, looking up, not knowing where to start