Maybe Unbelievable

I love cruising down the highway with the windows down and the air blowing in and out playfully slapping you across the face and whipping through your hair. At least that's what I think it's doing. I've been lazily letting my hair grow out long again. I was starting to have thoughts of cutting it off, but not after today. Not after the feeling I'm having right now. I feel like everything seems to be alive today. I'm surprisingly in a good mood. Must be the sugar rush. The sound of my big knobby tires humming against the pavement and the vibration from them under my seat is soothing. And then out of my speakers blasts a timely Pearl Jam tune

Son,
she said,
have I got a little story for you
What you thought was your daddy
was nothin' but a...
While
you were sittin' home alone
at age thirteen
Your real daddy was dyin',
sorry you didn't see him, but I'm glad we talked...
Oh I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey, I, I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey...oh...
Oh, she walks slowly,
across a young man's room
She said I'm ready...
for you
I can't remember
anything to this very day
'Cept the look, the look...
Oh, you know where,
now I can't see,
I just stare........
I, I'm still alive
Hey I, but, I'm still alive
Hey I, boy, I'm still alive
Hey I, I, I, I'm still alive, yeah
Ooh yeah...
yeah yeah yeah...oh...
oh...
Is something wrong, she said
Well of course there is
You're still alive, she said
Oh, and do I deserve to be
Is that the question
And if so...if so...
who answers...who answers...
I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey I, oh, I'm still alive
Hey I, but, I'm still alive
Yeah I, ooh, I'm still alive


Yes. I am still alive, damn it. And I'm gonna make the best out of it. I pull into an empty parking spot at the left of the Bank and walk in and ask to see Mr. Matthews, telling the receptionist I had an appoinment to meet with him a 3:30.
"Oh, yes. Mr Fisher, He's been expecting you. Right this way." said the nice lady at the front desk. She walk me into his office and leaves.
"Ah, Hello Mr.Fisher."
He came out from behind his desk long enough to make a formal shaking of the hand, and then it was right back back to business.
"Please, have a seat."
Mr.Matthews was an older tall white thin framed man. He looked to be in his mid to late fifties, his hair turned white and balding slightly. Well dressed fellow, it seemed like enjoyed the banking business and it's perks, judging by all the golfing memorabilia and trophies. Shit, someday I'd like to play golf again. Ah, maybe when I retire in another thirty years. I took a seat as reached in the credenza behind him and pulled out a file.
He said " Your wife wanted to make sure you and the boys were well taken care of. As weird as it sounds I almost knew what she was up to, and if it matters any, I even questioned her about her intent, but she seemed so happy and together and certain and she said it was just to be a surprise, that I just finally dismissed the horrible thought. It certainly was a surprise to us all and I am sorry for your loss."
I don't think I like this guy very much. C'mon, let's cut to the chase numbnuts.
"Thanks. I appreciate that." I said instead.
"Inside this folder you'll find what she has left for you."
This guy had definitely done a good deal of work on this particular , uhm, case, I guess you could call it, judging by the size of the thick file heading my way across his fine cherry oak desk top.

Good. Let's get this over with. As he slid the huge file across his desk, I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me. Like maybe even a small panic attack. Breathe, remember to breathe..............

I slowly open the front page of the folder and read the entire page. Twice. Just to make sure I was comprehending what I was reading and that I wasn’t going crazy, again. To make absolutely sure, I ask Mr.Thinman if he had anything to drink. He poured me a highball. I downed it. And asked for a back up. I read it again for a third time. I can’t fucking belive this. I got up and walked over to his office window and gaze out of it. Unbelievable. Un fucking believable. What a completely wonderful and incredible gift to give someone and at the same damn time take something so beautiful, and precious away. This hardly seems real. Surreal. Maybe I am going crazy. This is nuts. She can’t have possible done this. How will I be able to this? There’s no way. Is there? I sit back down and slurp on my second highball, scanning over it a fourth time. I asked Mr. Matthews, “ So, this is 100% absolutely legit and it’s all there just sitting and waitng for us? And I don't have to do anything? Well, but what about the .....“
He cut me off mid question.
“Excuse me, Mr.Fisher, I don’t mean to be rude, but I assure that your wife and I have been over this several times and made sure that all our i’s were dotted and t’s crossed. Everything is exactly as it reads and you may take ownership upon signing these documents here, and here. I’ll be here for you anytime in the future if you ever have any questions and we’ve also arranged for you to meet and have at your disposal a personal account, if you will, once you reach your castle in County Cork. She will be happy to explain everything in further detail. If you will just sign here, here, and here Mr.Fisher, you will be free to go and everything will all be taken care of on our end.”
“Call me Frank.”
I took the Mont Blanc pen and scribbled my name down on a few dotted lines, while choking back an onslaught of more tears I was afraid would come. He picked his signed copies and placed mine in the file.
“Very well. Thank you for your business Frank. If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to call, and again I am truly sorry for your loss. Everything you will need is in this folder.”
He reached across the desk as I picked up the folder ready to stand up and handed me one last thing. A ticket.

“Your plane to Ireland leaves in 4 hours.”