Some marriages work. Some are these amazing, magical best friendships that you just can’t seem to fathom would be possible, where you see these two people wanting to spend every waking moment with each other, and each can’t imagine a life without the other. Obviously, that was not the case with me because I was running from Ex like he was a hungry lion in Africa and I was the only warm body for miles. You could promise me Donald Trump’s entire estate if I would marry again and I still wouldn’t do it, but I’m not jaded enough to think that this kind of beautiful relationship is not possible.
However, when this impossible love does happen on those rare occasions, sometimes tragedy steals all of that in such a cruel way that you can’t fathom that, either. The relationship I'm about to write about was one of those unimaginable, lifelong love relationships with both spouse and children that is difficult to even conceptualize.
I just returned home from my best friend Ava’s city, in which we attended her father’s funeral and then spent our days with her Mom.
In order to understand this, you have to know that her parents were my second parents. We’ve been friends for more years than we wish to admit, since that means we have to disclose our real ages. So actually, we met when we were fetuses. Maybe not genetically, but we are sisters and we have nicknames for each other that I’ve mentioned in the past – MODI. Her Dad was Dad MODI and her Mom is Mom MODI to me. I love them as if they are family, but actually, they are my family.
I’ll spare you the gory details, because, quite frankly, I can’t even write about Dad MODI without sobbing, and I’ve not only done that for 6 days straight, but it blurs my contact lenses and then I can’t type. Point being, he had a heart attack Friday and died on Tuesday morning.
The majority of us will say nice things about the dead because we think we're going to have some bad karma or something if we speak the truth about what kind of a craphead this deceased person was. Let’s face it. Most people are buttheads and a pain in the ass (I know I am), and then, doesn’t it strike you oddly when everyone speaks about them as if they were angels? Well, I’m not one of those people because I’ll be the first to tell you that my Grandma, who I loved dearly, was the hugest bitch on the planet. She’d tell you the same thing as well. She loved to proclaim what a bitch she was, and she was a born-again Christian! And I hope that at my funeral, people talk about what a huge pain in the no-no hole (thank you Michael K for the terminology) I was! So I’m telling the truth and I don’t have to lie at all when I say that Dad MODI was an amazing, selfless, caring person who put everyone before himself. He was a world-renowned physician and inventor, but aside from all of that, he was in love with his wife and children for his whole life. I’m doing Dad MODI no justice with these words because words just cannot describe this man. I know, I know, you’re rolling your eyes thinking that I must be exaggerating, but I am not exaggerating in the least. I love my own Dad more than wine (which is saying a lot), and I’d rather live a life without wine than a life without my Dad. And I felt the same way about Dad MODI. I’d give up Opus One in a second if we could have him back here, so I can’t even begin to imagine what Ava is feeling right now.
The worst part (or one of them, because there are so many), is that Ava is getting married in 5 months. Dad MODI can’t walk her down the aisle, and that is a ridiculous injustice, since my Dad walked me down the aisle and my marriage, quite frankly, sucked! Dad MODI should have been able to walk her down the aisle because she’s marrying a good man, and honestly, that pisses me off. My poor Dad had to marry me off to a dude who loved granny porn!
In any case, I met Ava’s soon-to-be-husband under these circumstances this week for the first time, which is not how I wished to have met him. But what I can say, happily? Is that he is an absolute gem, never left her side at the hospital for 5 days, loves her completely, and he’s totally cute to boot. This is the first one she’s ever dated that I’ve even been able to tolerate! But I actually even like him! We stayed up one night until 5 in the morning drinking wine and talking. My kind of guy.
I’m devastated that Ava has to have her wedding without her beloved Daddy. They had one of those best friend father-daughter relationships that was so special and close, but I’m so happy that she’s marrying a good man who I know will honor Dad MODI’s memory. Since I’m speaking at her wedding, I’m thrilled that I actually love this guy, because otherwise, I’d just have to raise a glass and say, “I love you, MODI, and you look beautiful, but too bad I can’t stand your new husband, and too bad that Dad MODI is looking at us from heaven thinking what an asshat you've just married!” And don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t actually say that. I can now speak from the heart, which will probably start the tears flowing again for me. And tears make me just so ridiculously pretty. Me and crying don’t get along well. I need to see Plastic Surgeon for major surgery when I cry. Thank God I’m going back to work this week so I can run by her office at the hospital and get some work done.
So everyone, raise a glass to Dad MODI, celebrate his life, all that he did to save lives, heal pain, and most of all, how much he loved Mom MODI, Ava, and her brother, who we’ll call Peal! Cheers, Dad MODI, I love you so much and I miss you.
I’m still never getting married again, but right now, I’m also (unbelievably, I know) raising a glass to marriages that are beautiful, happy, and loving.
Monday, November 17, 2008
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