Jake Pierre: The Birthday Tribute

Me and my dad collage
I am beginning to feel as if my entire family was born in a 4-month cluster. As a blog writer there are things that I have become worried about, and one of them is continually repeating myself. But birthdays are birthdays and man, nothing says SAVE ON POSTAGE like an Internet birthday card. Plus, how many funerals do you go to where things are said that you know the deceased would have PASSED OUT with LOVE and INCREDULITY if they had known how KNOWN & LOVED they were while they were alive?

To which I say: Dad, WELCOME TO YOUR BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE.

As a shy and emotional kid, growing up as a Navy brat, he loved animals and kept a virtual zoo in his bedroom. Once, while walking home from school, he spied a baby flying squirrel on the ground, and stuffed him in his pocket. Tommy became a treasured family pet, who flew from drapery to drapery, delighting guests, and annoying the BAJEEBUS out of my grandfather. My dad was also known to keep an entire tank of crickets in his bedroom, which literally CRASHED a cocktail party his parents were giving. He also cried if his father wouldn’t stop to pick up a tortoise or a snake they had just spied on the side of road.

One of my favorite things I’ve done with my dad was to go back to his grandparents’ home in Switzerland, Florida, where he used to spend summers. I liked to see the house he raced turtles at, and learned to fish, and to love the taste of marshmallow fluff. As a kid who moved around a lot, and had a shaky sense of place, this summer stop meant a lot to him. As a kid, who moved around a lot and had a shaky sense of place, I relate a lot to those few constants you have, and I can see why that place meant a lot to him. He says that he’s not a very nostalgic person, but you should see the look on his face when he describes the feeling of seeing that same jar of marshmallow fluff on his grandmother Kathleen’s kitchen table. Can you taste it, Dad?

My dad and I have had a rocky road of it—-as his life has been full of ups and downs. We fortunately have become friends a long the way. I think it’s because we share a similar sense of life. I got a lot from him—-my artistic abilities, my sense of imagination, my appreciation of art and artists, and my sense of humor. His blog very much illuminates his serious, philosophical side, but you’d never guess what a DORK and a GOOF and PUN-Master he can be. He used to do a TON of self-published cartoon books. Among his earliest was A Sowsand Bucks, which were all cartoons base around deer. The one I remember was a deer driving a car, stopped at a sign that says “The buck stops here.” Get it? A BUCK, as in a MALE DEER, stops HERE. Oh, the WIT! I told this to Graham recently, and he literally was bent over from the HILARITY.

I love that he loves chocolate and sweets and is VERY APPRECIATIVE of a good lemon meringue pie. His mother used to make them for birthdays and thanksgiving—maybe a throwback to her southern roots. When I made him one and he said, “This is better than Nana’s.” It was like getting the LEGION OF HONOR in culinary arts. I also love that he can call me and be vulnerable and tell me that he is feeling insecure in my esteem, as he did recently. That is probably one of the biggest challenges for us grown ups, is to show up when we are vulnerable. When we show up in those moments, it is a way to say that we love ourselves enough NOT to go with the machinery that tells us stories and mixes us up. My dad is strong enough to show up and say this, and I appreciate it, because I love him dearly and if he doesn’t know it, I want to know that he doesn’t know it, so not another moment can go by where he believes that he isn’t loved, appreciated, and worth something to me.



Happy Birthday!