I just downloaded a bunch of Jim Croce mp3's. My dad really liked him. I remember when I was little there was a time that every time he took me somewhere, his van would rattle along to "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" or "Don't Mess Around with Jim." I remember people commenting on how much dad looked like Mr. Croce.

I hadn't thought about any of that in a long time. I'd forgotten it, really, but a few weeks ago I saw a VH1 "Behind the Music" special about him, and a couple of things hit me. For one thing, my dad really did look a lot like Jim Croce. Also, hearing those songs again made me remember some good times with my dad, and I realized that I do have good memories of him. Sure, the good times were outnumbered by the bad, but the important thing is that there were some good times. When my dad was sober, he was the best dad I could ask for. He was loving, funny, sweet, tender, and understanding, and during those times I really loved him, and I had no doubt in my mind that he loved me.

Right now I'm listening to "Time In a Bottle" and wishing that I could always remember that version of my dad, and forget about his other persona, the drunk, controlling, hateful, mean and scary version, which was what we usually saw of him. When I remember him during those good times, I can actually bring myself to miss him.