Remembering Dad

Yes I know I've been missing from here, but as I just told a friend I've been busy; busy with life things in general. My son is thoroughly enjoying boy scouting, which is good, I've been taking everyone to the dr, and cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning. As I mentioned before I've been cleaning the skeletons and lord knows what else out of our basement - I think Jimmy Hoffa might make an appearance soon LOL

However, in my process I've found a lot of good memories. Whether it be in old photos, or a drawing, or heck even an outfit. Each thing holds a special place in our family, especially things concerning my father. We lost him 9 years ago May and though I still miss him every day, it's nice to now smile when I think about certain things. Like the way he used to stop what he was doing and start dancing any time he heard Bob Segar's Old Time A Rock N Roll and I mean - whatever he was doing. I remember him scaring the crap out of my sister because he was driving and let go of the wheel and started dancing because it was on. Needless to say we all survived ;-)

Recently I found a note that he'd written to my brother; not sure what it was for but I knew my brother would want to keep it so I took it and placed it on his dresser without saying a word. He asked my mom about it and she told him that I'd come across it; he hasn't said a word to me, but I know he treasures it because I know I would. I know most dads, and most guys in general are not very demonstrative ppl and often have a tough time showing their emotions. Not my dad; you see my father lost his mother when he was a mere 10 years old. With three kids (my dad being the oldest) my grandfather moved in with his mother so that she could help raise them while he worked at the coal mines day in and day out. Now only having vague memories of my grandfather I don't know that he was ever an emotional person, but I can imagine that losing your life partner will change you in some way. Either way, he was never very demonstrative with his kids and not really emotional with them. Sure he provided for them financially and took care of all his responsibilities, but that was where it ended I think. Because of this, my dad decided to be quite the opposite with his kids. There are not enough fingers and toes in the world to count the number of times my father hugged me, kissed me, told me he loved me, said he was proud of me, etc etc. Sure he was a force to be reckoned with when he was pissed at you; mostly because he knew that you could do better. Hell I was 22 and living on my own but was scared to death to tell my Dad that I was having a child out of wedlock. However at the end of the day, he had his say and it was over - was estatic when my son was born just as with all his grandkids. It was the same way he was with my mom; he loved her like Romeo loved Juliet, but he also fought with her like a sworn enemy sometimes. But my parents loved each other - anyone that knew them could tell you that.

Like with any parent; there were many an embarrassing moment with my dad. There wasn't just the dancing, there was the yelling at me from the sidelines when I missed a fly ball while playing right field, the time my brother got hit by a pitch and my father carried him off the field - my brother scowling the entire time. The time he tried to write himself a check while my mom was out of town. He'd made it out to cash and forgotten to sign the back; the teller sent it back and asked him to sign it and he said the hell with it and tore it up and left (can you tell my mom handled the bills?). The time my brother got a car axle stuck in his foot and my dad raced over to the church where my mom was on retreat like the house was on fire. There were the "disussions" with my sisters - more like the latest political debates as both of them like to argue, but Dad always respected their opinions. The main thing I think to him, as he said often enough was "At least my kids are still talking to me".

Then there's Clint Eastwood - my father's icon; I can't tell you how many times on a Saturday you'd better pray there was something on t.v.; otherwise you'd be treated to a Clint Eastwood marathon. Everytime I hear the music from The Good The Bad and The Ugly I smile because I remember how much it used to irritate me when he used to watch it. If any of you have seen it you know that it's the same musical score throughout the ENTIRE movie. Despite his love of Clint Eastwood movies, which I'll forgive Dad was a brilliant man; he could do math like noone's business (he was a draftsman) though don't ever ask him to teach it. I can't remember the number of times he TRIED to help me with my math homework ( I SUCK at Math) but we could never understand each other and eventually we both gave up on that LOL His other talent was drawing (again another trait I didn't inherit); he LOVED it. His dream was to one day work for Walt Disney, but I think his lack of self confidence held him back from going for it. This is funny because he's also the person that taught me to be positive and believe in myself. I don't know how many times he would say Karyn, it's the power of postive thinking when I would accomplish something I'd didn't think I'd be able to do. It took me a long time to realize that you do attract what you put out there, but Dad I finally get it!

Losing my dad was one of the hardest things I've been through because it was also the time that I had my son and was in a rocky relationship with my ex. However, the one thing that I will always cherish is the fact that my son got to meet him, and I got to say goodbye. You see my father never had that opportunity with his own father; my grandfather lived 5 hours away, and though we couldn't afford to all go my mom got my dad on a train to see him because we knew it was near the end. I still remember going to the train station and sharing a 7up with my younger brother while we waited for the train. Later that night my father called - he'd arrived an hour too late and my grandfather was gone. I remember sitting on the front porch with my siblings and my mom retelling stories and thinking about my dad. How hard that must have been for him.

The last time I saw my father he was in a nursing/rehab center and hooked up to oxygen. He'd been sick with emphyzema for a long time - a result of 40 plus years of smoking. He was so frail and looked old beyond his years - no longer the man whose bark I feared. My mom, my sister, me, and my son had gone out to see him because the nurse had called and said he'd taken a turn for the worse. You see he'd been told a couple days before that he only had 6 months left to live. I think this is when he finally gave himself permission to let go, and when I saw him that day I looked at him and more or less told him with my eyes that it was ok to let go. I'm grateful that I got to see him that one last time and in my mind when I picture him leaving; I picture my grandparents and great grandmother coming to get him and leading him into Heaven.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well mostly it's because I loved my father and want others to know about him - he was a phenomenal man. However it's also to remind you that no matter how much money you make, or what kind of car you drive, if you live in a big house; in the end it means nothing. To quote a song "It's not what you take when you leave this world behind, it's what you leave behind you when you go". I thank God everyday for the memories that my father left me that live in my heart. So if you love someone - tell them every chance you get because tomorrow is never promised.