ROTR Observation

A tradition, form, or system loses its connection to reality when it becomes separated from the necessity that gave rise to it.

I am on a plane which is beginning to descend into Los Angeles. Across the aisle to my left is a bald man asleep in his chair. He has a square bandage on his head. I wonder how he injured himself and also imagine him hitting it on a hard, low doorway. I also have the thought that I like watching people sleep on planes. Out his window, the Hollywood hills are bathed in the rose-gold hues of dusk. The city sparkles. My arms are somewhat stiff from cradling my dog in my lap. She is also sleeping. I can feel her warmth, her heaviness, and how soft her hair is in my right hand (the left is supporting a pillow, which is supporting her head). Beside me, my husband laughs. He is watching a film on his phone. A feeling of gratitude washes over me mixed with contentment.

Clarence James Wigger 1941-2019

Dad was an all-around easy person to like. He exuded warmth and used his sense of humor to make connections with people wherever he went. He was the kind of person that could immediately put you at ease, and his greatest reward for this was making you laugh.

It’s not surprising that he loved children. He was fun-loving and generally unafraid of being silly. That part in us that is sometimes lost when we harden into adulthood was never lost in him. Even after Alzheimer’s had taken so much, it never disposessed him of his right to a good joke.

Humor was one of Dad’s greatest gifts and he used it to help him get through the difficult times in his life. My Dad came from humble beginnings – the kind that would turn a lesser person understandably bitter – but he kept an open heart and, despite challenges along the way, managed to live life with a kind of reluctant optimism many of us fail to achieve, even with more advantages and privilege than he.

My Dad was humble. He didn’t pretend to have all the answers or ever assert that his way was the only right one.  He was tender-hearted and unreservedly affectionate towards his daughters. He gave out of what he had and it was important to him that we knew he was there for us come what may, without judgment or qualification. He was good at being comforting. He knew how to listen even though he loved to talk. He had so many stories…