My Dad

Growing up, I did not have much of a relationship with my dad. He came over on holidays, such as Christmas and Easter with the appropriate gifts and baskets of eggs. He came over on my birthday. He came whenever I needed to be taken to the Emergency Room, which was more often than most kids since I was what they called, "accident prone." Other than that, I didn't see him much and, when I did, I really did not know what to say to him. I remember riding on the bus and having Grandma point out the street where my Dad lived (Wiota Street). We would look down the hill quickly to see if his car was there, so we'd know whether or not he was home.

I remember going to his house on Wiota Street, at least once. I was excited to go, but was not very comfortable once we were there. The whole time we were there, Daddy and Kathie (my step-mother) were arguing with each other. In addition, Kathie was complaining to Grandma about what a horrible husband Daddy was. I did not like the fact that Kathie was saying such bad things about my dad, even though I liked Kathie the best of my Dad's three wives.

As an adult, I got to know Kathie's son, Chris, and his wife, Earleen. They would tell me all these stories about what a great guy my Dad was and how much fun they'd had with him when they were growing up. Even though the stories were funny and allowed me to know my Dad a bit better, a part of me did not want to hear them. I did not want to hear what great Dad my Dad had been to other people.

One of the hardest things I have done in my life was to get to know my Dad. And, I would guess, that it has not been easy for him to get to know me, either. But it is one of the best things I have done. At first, it was excruciatingly uncomfortable for me to spend time with him. I did not know what to say. It felt so forced and contrived. I was embarrassed. But I really, really wanted to have a relationship with him. And, now that I do, it is a huge blessing in my life.

By the time Grandma died, I felt quite close to my dad. He was a big help and comfort to me in the wake of her death, particularly since my cousins and their parents were quite critical of me. I know that he felt the anguish of losing her as much as I did and that he was not concerned about getting any of her material possessions or anything like that. He loved her, just as I loved her, and that was all.

Since it is Father's Day, I want to honor my Dad with a list, in no particular order, of why he is such a wonderful Dad and why I am so grateful to have him:
1. He was smart enough to know that the best life for me would be with my Grandma.
2. He fought for me in court, rather than just let my mother take me.
3. He has always believed in me and been proud of my accomplishments, no matter how small.
4. He never, ever criticized me for being fat or for being single.
5. He laughs at my jokes.
6. We agree about so many things, particularly politics and music.
7. I know that I am his favorite.
8. He is totally honest about his feelings, no b.s. from him ever.
9. He has integrity.
10. He is not a phony. He does not make a public spectacle of himself. He is what he is and that's all.
11. I can tell him anything.
12. He loves me, no matter what.
13. He gave me away at my wedding. (Although he did say he was tempted to keep me!)
14. He is passionate about what he believes in.
15. He cannot be quiet if he knows something is wrong.

People sometimes say I am like my Dad. That is high praise, in my opinion.

I love you, Daddy!