Peter Broderick Flynn

Our Peter, my dad, died today at Cape Cod Hospital. He was in his 70's and lived a good life, was only diagnosed with the disease that killed him, cancer, a short time ago. He would have been glad that he didn't suffer long or loose his facilities and need long term care. He went quick. The notes from home all say what I want them to, "Stay in Bali". So I will. I will miss him and he is gone now forever so that will always be true. A suffocating thought. He was as scary as he was loveable at times. When Peter was on a roll there was this disconnect from reality that we were all aware of--he would sing and dance for his own pleasure and please those who "got it". Yeah, he drank. He drank--to quote Richard Harris who died in 2002--"because he absolutely loved it!" Yeah, his drinking had negative impacts on us all. That is what alcoholism does. Dad was difficult to understand. I wonder how well he understood himself. Many of my memories of him are while he is drunk or I am drunk or a little high. It is too bad I didn't get to really have a father who was involved with my life. Oddly, I have no regrets or anger and grieve more for the experiences he missed rather than the ones alcoholism stole from me.

Oh, his presence was delicious at times, his charisma could fill a room and cause everyone to love him then and there. Like all the Flynn boys he had kind of a rubber face and could make the most expressive faces--I learned that from him and his brothers. I like to remember Peter as a younger man, like in his 50's, dashing and handsome, rogueish and square like a linebacker, full head of blackish hair, very aware of his surroundings and who was in the room. I am so glad I chose to visit with him last summer (we saw each other so infrequently though we both lived on Cape Cod during the summer). He came over to my apartment in Orleans and we had a small bite to eat. I did all the talking, just letting him know that he is my dad and I love him no matter what. So he knew that, and it makes me feel nice that I got to take him aside to tell him that I am his son and he is stuck with my love, no matter what.

I am in Bali Indonesia now, exactly 12 hours opposite the part of the world where my father lies. He lies there waiting for those who love him and care for him to help with the end of this part of his life. Being so far away pains me, but the love and support I have received from my family, and the admonitions to stay put here in this paradise lessen my pain. All of Bali is a smoldering, temple filled, offering piled experience. Maybe dad will pay me a visit on his way to the other side...I will listen for him singing something like "Lambs eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy" or "Good morning mr Zip Zip Zip with your haircut just as short as mine". And of course the grandest version of the Jamaica song "Sad to say I'm on my way, won't be back for many a day, my heart is down my head is turning around, I had to leave a little girl in Kingston town."
I wish you the fondest farewell Peter Broderick Flynn, thanks for giving me this wonderful life I am living. Don't hesitate to call, anytime.

Love, Jonathan