Father's Day

When you're younger it's easy to think of Father's Day as just a day that you have to remember to get your Dad a card and gift. No big deal. Or in my case, working in retail, Father's Day is just one more of those holidays that make us work harder and longer hours, because everyone is out there shopping and usually waiting till the last minute to buy their presents. But like many things age puts a different perspective on things. Age and other events.

It wasn't that long ago that I was wondering if my Dad was even going to make it to this Father's Day. It's a scary feeling thinking that you're about to lose someone that means so much to you. He's been such a constant in my life, that I don't know what I would do without him. It doesn't matter how old I am, he's still my Dad and I still feel like he can solve all the world's problems for me. As a kid you think you're Dad can do anything, than as you get older you start thinking he doesn't know anything and he's just put on earth to piss you off. Still later as you, hopefully mature somewhat you realize that maybe he did know everything and that if you can't figure something out he's only a phone call away.

Robert Heinlein is one of the grand masters of science fiction. A lot of his fiction always starred a main character, mostly male (though later he did use female leads) that was the competent man; the man that could fix a car, cook dinner, read the newest novel, build a cabinet, in essence whatever needed doing. For me this ideal, this competent man has always been my Dad. I've seen him fix a car, cook dinner many times, always reading, building more than just a cabinet....doing whatever needed doing.

I inherited my love of reading from my Dad. For as long as I was growing up I always remember him reading. My Mom and Dad enrolled my in a book club when I was still learning to read. I remember getting those Dr. Seuss books, those gold key books, the first book I ever remember reading "Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel" I got from that book club.

(An aside: For years I thought my copy of that book gone. My brother had given it to my nephew when he was young and I assumed it was lost like so many mementos of childhood. One Christmas I opened a present from my brother and it was my copy of Mike Mulligan. Battered and falling apart that present meant more to me than the newest electronic toy. My brother is a lot like my Dad.)

My Mom and Dad valued intelligence. Neither had went past high school. In fact my Dad had not even went that far. To them having a jock for a son was not seen as anything special, what they wanted was for me and my brother to bring home A's. But it wasn't a beat us over the head to get good grades. Yes, there were times when they seemed to want us to succeed when we felt like we couldn't. But they nourished a love of learning in both my brother and me. They made smart seem cool to us. And this was back, years before geeks became the barometer of cool.

My Dad was born in New Jersey to immigrants from Ireland. I don't remember my Dad's parents that well. I can remember them to a certain degree, they were both big and round and to me seemed happy. The truth was somewhat different. My Dad came from an abusive family. His father beat him. He didn't finish high school because he joined the Navy after a particular severe beating from his father. Later in life my Dad was able to at least come to somewhat terms with his Dad and I guess forgive him as much as possible.

The truth is that most children that come from abusive homes become abusive parents themselves. And my Dad has a temper. He could get mad very easily, sometimes it seemed over the slightest fault. We got whipped as kids. But I can honestly say we never got beat. And the whippings were never worse than what a normal whipping is. Now I can look back and see the struggle my Dad must have went through and what he accomplished by breaking that cycle of abuse.

As kids growing up my Dad made sure every summer we went on vacation. It might just be to my Grandparents house in Tennessee when we lived in Georgia, it might be to Disney World, it might be to Six Flags, but it was always somewhere we would go. As a kid my Dad never got to go on vacation and he wanted to make sure we did.

Growing up my parents fought. They could have battle royals. But I never saw two people more in love either. They weren't afraid to show their affection for each other in front of us kids either. I don't know how many times I would walk in on them in the kitchen kissing and hugging or snuggling on the couch, they loved each other very much.

I remember the first time I saw my Dad cry. I had to have been around 8. My sister was probably about one. From her birth she had been in and out of hospitals, one of the problems she had was she was born with spina bifda. They would fly her to Walter Reed for operations and I remember my Dad coming home after one operation and telling me and my brother about it. My sister had died on the operating table, but they were able to revive her. But as my Dad told that story he started crying. At that age neither my brother nor I knew what to do. We had never seen my Dad cry. He was so strong, but later I think it showed us what true strength was, that you could have the ability to cry.

As young as I can remember my Dad liked to build. He would always have a workshop out back, with tools and saws and whatever else he needed to build. He built our beds, cabinets, anything he could. He loved working with wood. Me, not so much. My brother has inherited that love from him. Even as an adult if I needed something built, a new bookcase, I would call my Dad and tell him what I needed and I knew I would get it exactly like I needed.

My Dad is actually an insecure person. He always believes that he isn't that smart. He really feels bad about not finishing high school. He doesn't realize how smart he really is. He's taught himself so much. He's taught my brother and I so much. He's taught us how to be the best men we can be. I don't think we could have a better example.

So here's to my Dad....Happy Father's Day.