my amazing dad and my still-scintillating sister at 51 years-young! taken by me outside the WF Temple H(om)e, Kinlani, AZ last year.
actual cell phone conversation with my mom today:
“Hey, Mom?”
“Steve? Is that you?”
“Yeah, hey listen, Dewa has been talking nonstop about you and “Duck*” coming for Thanksgiving and she wanted to say ‘hi’ to you, okay?”
{insert an absolutely delicious (or revolting for the devoted single people) 5 minutes of Grandma and 2 year-old Grandchild ‘conversation here}
back to steve:
“Yeah, so, i also wanted to tell you that there is no need for you guys to bring coffee, okay? We just did a ‘Sam’s Club’ expedition and i got a killer deal on great coffee…and lots of it, okay?”
Treasured Reader:
you must realize the extent of my father’s addiction to coffee and cigarettes. The dude is – without doubt – coming off his cockroach incarnation because i swear to God; this guy is incredibly resilient…he began chain smoking cigarettes, drinking any kind of alcohol and then some, along with coffee when he was 14 years-old after he blew off his left hand (that’s a different story…see how he automatically hides it in his left pant pocket in the photo above? every photo of my beautiful dad is like that. i love you, Dad!).
I recall when i was about 17 years-old in Boulder, a Great Condition was laid down by my mom to my dad:
quit drinking or i swear i will leave you.
he quit…
for the most part.
And smoked and drank coffee all the more.
He works at Wal-Mart.
Has for 18 years.
Doesn’t need to be at work until 7 am.
He wakes up at 2 am.
Goes outside (my mom doesn’t allow him to smoke inside) and smokes until he leaves for work at 5:30…leaving an hour and a half for a commute which takes 11 minutes.
Upon arrival in the pre-dawn Wal-Mart parking lot…he…smokes.
He is currently 78 years-old and will more than likely still outwork you…even if you have two good hands.
He would likely outwork Jack LaLanne or any other certified Pilates or KettleBaller or CrossFitter or Marine.
I promise you.
I know.
The Germanic Barbarianism of the Ilg Lineage is not exactly pretty.
It’s pure guts.
Trust me: I know my dad’s addictive/obsessive samskaras ALL too deeply. They are deep.
Obviously; World Class deep.
Back to the phone conversation:
mom: “Oh well, that’s really great, thank you but Dad has already packed his Folgers® Single Serving Packets. You know, he has to have a cup of coffee between his cigarettes.”
i am not stunned, not even surprised;
“Yeah, i know, i know…see you two soon up here in Flag…drive safe, okay?”
{Insert utterly inane 5 minutes of a 80 year-old chi-filled mom saying this-and-that before finally saying Good-Bye}
* – Dewa’s name for GrandDad Ilg…cuz he always quacks like a duck for her.

i want to hear about what YOU are getting ready to deal with on the Family Yoga plane this holiday season! email me!

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