So this weekend is going to be a little weird. Training needs aside (tomorrow is a 4 1/2 hour trainer ride followed by a 45 minute brick - is the IM almost here?!?!) this is the weekend of the Dad Memorabilia draft, the first and the only. Let me explain.
As most of you know, my dad died about three years ago from a really brief but painful illness of lung cancer. By the time it was discovered, it was all over his body. Even though he went through the motions of radiation and chemo, he lived for only six months. It was a tough time, still is at times, for many reasons. At the time of his death, he was a HIGHLY celebrated Chicago Police Captain, who, after his death, had the Roll Call Room at the 18th District dedicated to him (the first known dedication of that kind in the history of the police department, as far as we've been told). Many on the department who ever knew or worked with him were devastated, and spent the last six months of his life making sure he knew what he meant to them.
This picture was taken just two months before his death, at a ceremony where he won an award on Officer Appreciation Day. The Aldermen were there, the room was FILLED with officers and civilians just waiting to talk to him, hear him speak (he was a legend for his public speaking abilities). Obviously, he was pretty sick, and even looking at the picture as I type this, its weird to see him like that. That was my dad. Was. It's still weird to say. Three years later.
When my dad died, part of what was left to the kids (five of us) was his MASSIVE sports memorabilia collection to divide up and distribute. Not so easy of a task. So we decided to give it to an auction house and just cut the proceeds, but the auction house only took some of the stuff, leaving us with the rest. So this weekend, we are having a "draft." We have all made lists of things we might want (for monetary or sentimental value) and will pick numbers and take turns making our selections.
The crazy part about this is that my dad literally spent years collecting this stuff, and if there is anything I have that even remotely reminds me of him (other than my glaring personality disorder and knack for picking the "wrong" guys), it's this stuff. So this whole division process is just a bit...I don't know...weird, I guess, for lack of better word.
So that's what I face come Sunday. I hope it goes smooth, and I think it should, but you never know. That, plus my training, should make for a really wiped out little Meggie by Sunday night. Thanks for letting me vent this out today. I think I have some more "emotion" sorting out to do. Later.