Derby Day

All week, well actually all last month, I've known this is Derby Day. Once you've lived through the fever of the pre-derby hoopla, it's in your system forever. Almost every year since I came back from Louisville I would throw a derby party. Mint juleps, plenty of food and so on. Of course, my dad would come too. He so looked forward to it. He would sit and hold court, tell tails of betting and horse racing, including the one where he overheard a tip, and took his last dollars to win money to get our mother out of the hospital after a car accident where she had miscarried. Just one more wonderful peek into how truly crazy our father really was. Like those horses, he seemed to be bread for speed and winning, regardless of consequences. And if one could liken our mother to anyone in that equation, i suspect she's the jockey. Knowing when to push, when to pull up on the reins and how to guide the beast to his final goal. After her death, my dad leaned on us for that guidance, teetering between being our role model and advisor and needing us to be his. May' 06 was my last derby party. Barbaro won. My dad and I tracked his career and fall. I think my dad even cried when Barbaro fell. Little did we know their fates would be almost tied together, in one year, both took a big fall. Dad's life became more and more difficult for him, his mind less and less sharp, and his energy more and more difficult to maintain. But he never lost his spunk. I suspect Barbaro too was fighter to the end. Dad passed in January of '07 just days before Babaro was put down. Today there is no Derby party, but I will be watching the race. And I'll think of my Dad while I watch those horses run with all their heart to accomplish the one thing they were brought up to do, win. Just like my dad, who won the best thing anyone could have in life, everyones love.