A sweet benefit of being slightly good at impersonations is the ability to conjure people, especially the departed, into the present moment.
One way that I keep my second father, +Willie Mack Riche+ [aka Rich, Capt. Riche, Pop and Poppa — the father who majorly provided shelter/food/clothing plus eight years of parochial primary education for me], present with me after sixteen long and quick years, is to impersonate his voice and his gestures; use his expressions, his words and pronunciations; or use the actual nicknames he conferred upon people — and also ones I imagine he’d assign to those whom he would’ve likely met and known had he lived longer.
I employ at least one of these precious nuggets of his essence at least once a day — so that even my “Hound” dog Woody, who arrived nearly five years after my dad died, has a strong sense of my Pop’s animated and playful personality.
Besides the love that we gave, I think we will all ultimately be remembered by our loved ones for our adorable, hilarious or maddening affectations, intonations, phrasing, expressions and idiosyncracies.
Continue reading “Capt. Rich”
