One of my favorite photos of my dad, circa 1965. This is how I'll always remember him: young and vital. He's holding my little sister, Marty. My brother, Terry, sports a crewcut. I'm the one eating a snowcone. Undoubtedly, it was lime flavored.
Today is Dad’s birthday. He would have been 82 years old. I wish he were here so that I could say happy birthday in person. And yet, I feel his presence with me all the time, even though physically he’s left this world.
I loved my dad, no doubt about it. In fact, I idolized Dad well beyond the age when a person should release such juvenile notions of infallibility and perfection.
Like everyone, my dad was a flawed person. Coming to terms with that knowledge, in the aftermath of his death, comforts me. You see, Dad’s main flaw was perfectionism – a self-destructive model of behavior I learned from him, myself. And so, it comforts me to realize, in retrospect, that Dad in fact wasn’t perfect. And I don’t have to be, either.
Fortunately, I like to think I inherited many of his nobler qualities, as well: a strong work ethic; wacky sense of humor; a devotion to honor and duty, especially when it comes to family; a boundless love of life; optimism.
To be honest, life dealt Dad a crummy hand. Physical ailments crippled him too early in life, which led to feelings of bitterness and despair in his later life. For a man’s man like Dad to be rendered unable to enjoy the physical pleasures of life must have been hard for him to cope with. In some ways, I admire the way he maintained his optimism as long as he did. I certainly don’t blame him for feeling angry and bitter from time to time in old age.
Still, I try not to think about those times.
I prefer to remember Dad as the young father, raising his family on the farm. Strapping and vital, he worked multiple jobs to make sure his wife and family were well-provided for. Laughter reigned throughout my childhood. Life wisdom was imparted during outdoor play or work. For us kids, family vacations by car enriched our understanding of the world. Truly, no one could have asked for a better childhood. And I credit Dad and Mom for that.
Thank you, Dad, for everything. For the laughter, the encouragement, the support. For letting me go as I grew up. For giving my life wings.
And happy birthday. I miss you.
{ 1 comment }
