Christmas Presents From Dad

This was one of those strange moments in life that could very well be coincidence, but I’m a romantic and a believer at heart … and this is something I wanted to share.

Most of you know that I lost my Dad recently. I’m still in the middle of dealing with it, and family and friends who’ve been down this sad journey assure me that it’s one that’s not likely to end soon. I’m hanging in there, and one of the things I’m doing as part of my long process of mourning is to reconnect with some of the things that Dad and I shared.

I was a little kid when the movie Conan the Barbarian came out in theaters, and Dad didn’t give a damn that it was a rated-R movie. He had a passion for the character and the writing of Robert E. Howard. Years after seeing the film—which I can now quote from memory and grunt “The Anvil of Crom” upon request—I read my Dad’s old Conan paperbacks, the compilations of work by Howard, L. Sprague de Camp, and Lin Carter. Like my Dad, I loved the energy and imagery of Howard’s writing.

A few years ago my Dad was with me in a bookstore when I grabbed a paperback compilation called The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian. It restored the original Howard Conan tales to their original form and presented them in the actual order written. I’ve been savoring the tales of a barbarian warrior, pirate, mercenary, and king—thinking back to Dad and I talking over some of these tales at different points in my life. I added the other two volumes, The Conquering Sword of Conan and The Bloody Crown of Conan, to my Christmas list in hopes that I’d soon be able to resume my return to the Hyborian Age.

Yesterday my family and I hopped on an airplane to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with my family. I was kind of anxious about this trip, the first since my Dad’s funeral in September. I ended up leaving without my travel kit and toothbrush. And then I left my book in the seat pocket on the airplane.

It’s just a book. I shouldn’t have upset me so much. But as we road the tram toward Baggage Claim I felt my eyes shimmering because I had left behind the book that Dad and I had bought together. I was angry at myself for being so careless, and while I knew that a book can be easily replaced I was upset all the way until I made it to bed last night.

I lay there, half-asleep, with that feeling still in my gut. My eyes were unfocused and I stared at the bookshelf … and then I suddenly realized what I was looking at. Right there in direct eyeline to wear I lay in bed, was a hardcover copy of The Coming of Conan. I sprang up out of bed and grabbed it, and when I reached out for it I saw that right next to it was the other two volumes in the series—the books I had placed on my Christmas list.

Maybe it’s just one of those coincidences, that I’m reading too much into this. But I say screw that. My Dad took care of me. He gave me back the book that I lost and gave me my Christmas presents early. I slept soundly last night and woke up feeling a lot better.

Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas, Dad.