Pop revisited.

Well, I came into Kansas with a lot of jokes to my back about which natural disaster I would bring with me. Tornadoes and flooding have followed, or slightly preceded me as I journey westward. I returned the jokes with a comment that Kansas was going to have a locust plague of epic proportions, but I only see grasshoppers, and only occasionally. What I dont see, but feel, as does everyone here, is the record heatwave that has hit this state. The forecast calls for five straight days of 100 degree or higher weather. Today, June 6, will be 102, as will tomorrow, and 101 the next day.
Walking outside in this stuff is draining, and can be dangerous if that old word, hydration, is not implemented. I have learned that through trial and error. I have let myself dry up a bit, as it were, and dizziness and fatigue start to creep in, so I now have learned the signals that my body sends me and act appropriately. This will be good training for the long stretches of desert I may face in Utah and Nevada.
My feet have begun their nonsense again. The right one is okay but the ball of the left foot is severely inflamed, as bad as its been this whole trip, but stopping for more than a little while is not an option anymore. So, I try to keep moving and block the pain by meditating it away as much as is possible. Naproxen helps some, but mostly I just endure it, and that is okay.
Yesterday was a very emotional day, after hanging with Chris Valencia for a while. For readers who don’t know our history, this is the capsulized version:
Chris, his brother Alex, and their mom, and later a little sister Alisha, rented an apartment from my dad years ago, when I was a young man, and they were kids. Their mom had a lot of medical issues that made life tough for all involved, and the lack of “dads” for the boys was sad. I lived upstairs, and later, after I got married, only a mile away, so was around a lot, and really got to love their family. When Alex, the younger brother, wanted to play baseball in Little League, I told him that I would make sure he got to his practices and games, since his mom couldn’t drive at that time. I think in three years, or was it four? I only missed getting him to practice once, and never missed a game. In the meantime, Chris, the more sensitive of the two boys, would often worry after his mom and would stay around in case she needed him. A really sweet kid. He didn’t seem inclined to baseball and my life was busy and I couldn’t devote as much time to him as I did with Alex. My dad however, stepped up, and in ways I didn’t know. Chris did indeed get involved in Babe Ruth ball, and my dad, who he always called “Pop,” got him to practices and games. And there were a lot more things that they did together, building things, guy talking, and all of that stuff that my dad and I never really did much of, for whatever reasons.
So, sitting at lunch yesterday, hearing Chris tell me that my dad had so completed the missing male role model picture for him that he never really felt the need to try to get to know his biological father, literally brought me to tears. He wasn’t always around when I needed him but I am so glad he was a good dad for Chris, a good “Pop”, and had such a powerful influence on a young man who might have turned out differently. Now I sat across from a young man with a lovely family, who has a good job, is happy in his life and faith, and is a damned good man. So Im happy that my dad, his “pop” had something to do with that.
As human beings we should all want to see every other person in the world do well, but Ive seen too much negative crap and bad will in my life to know that it isn’t always the case. People are often petty, jealous and just mean sometimes. My dad wasn’t perfect, but he was a great guy, loved to have fun, and make people laugh, often at his own expense. He died 13 years ago, and is still in my thoughts, as he is in Chris’s almost daily.
So I went on a dad tangent there. Father’s Day is next week, and I might not be around wifi, so Ill call this my Father’s Day tribute. Just in case.
I miss my dad. My sister is gone so she can’t miss him. Its nice to know that next Sunday, a good solid young man who bought me lunch and brought me to tears with nice memories will be thinking of him too, and I thank him for that. And I am grateful. Sometimes little bitter thoughts of my dad not being around for me creep into my brain, and I don’t like that feeling. He was working and doing what he needed to do, so I cant really complain. I turned out okay, and thanks to my dad, in part, Chris turned out even better. And that is a good thing.
Now, onward and westward.
I will try for Dodge City by the weekend, and then on to Holcomb, where events decades old were responsible for not only the creation of an entire genre in literature, but the start of a career for one of our most unforgettable writers. More on that later.
Ive reached the 1200 mile mark this week. Not quite halfway, but getting there. The rest of Kansas, after the heat breaks, (if it does )should be easier--- flat, straight and windy. The wind really helps keep the heat to a tolerable level, like a radiator in a car. Sometimes it’s stronger than I’d like but that’s okay. When I get to Nevada Ill be wishing for the slightest movement of air, a lover’s breath, the flutter of a butterfly’s wing….anything.
And I carry on.