Charles "Chuck" Fykes 1953-2009

So my dad died. It's funny how many ways we have to say those simple words. You hear a lot of them in a very short period of time when someone close to you dies. "Your Loss" "Lost" "deceased" "passed away". In case you're wondering, that's my dad seated on the horse, and my grandfather is the guy with the pipe hanging out of his mouth.

I can't even begin to really put into words all the emotions and thoughts I've had over the past month since I got that phone call. It feels like an eternity since that day, and yet I've re-played the call so many times. I keep thinking it will turn out differently, perhaps maybe the next time I run through it in my mind the state trooper will say something different, like: "we have an outstanding ticket from 12 years ago and we have a warrant out for your arrest" (a thought I actually had racing through my mind as I returned the message left at our office)

I talked with a friend tonight and he asked "how's everything going?" My reply was " To be honest, I don't really know. I've never inherited someone's life before." And I think that's a good way to sum up the weight I feel. It's weight of having to absorb someone else's life that was ongoing and ended abruptly. The weight of having no preparation.

I wasn't prepared.

I'd give anything to have just one more day with him. I'm reading a book called "One More Day". Suggested reading by Tiff's mom, Pam. I'm not quite through, but it fits well with thoughts already present. If I could have one more day.......What would I want to say? What would we do? Such heavy questions. Spending the better part of the past month living in his shoes has been hard. and good. Living in his house. Cooking in his kitchen. Sleeping in his bed. I miss him in the mornings, when I get up before sunrise to feed the horses. I keep expecting him to walk in the house.

I miss him.

Three generations of Fykes: Charles Edwin / James Gilbert / Joshua Taylor