Father’s Day is right around the corner. And with that, it brings up lots of memories. My own dad died in 1998, on February 13th. 22 years later, as I look at his pictures, I remember tons of things about him.
One of my earliest memories of my dad was each morning he would get up, start the percolator, and light up a Camel. Many mornings I would head out during one of his bathroom breaks and hide under the living room desk, pulling the chair in tight so he would not see me. Usually, my laughter would be heard, and he would come over and pull the chair out and ask me to sit down at the dining room table.
My dad was a WWII veteran, and with 2 Purple Hearts, he had some injuries that still bothered him. Unfortunately, it was not the physical injuries, so much as the emotional ones. My dad suffered from what was called “battle fatigue.” Many nights he would awake from his sleep, screaming for help for his injured friend.
In later years, I recognized the severity of it, as well as the lack of treatment and help back then. As the oldest, I saw more than a kid should have, but he was my dad. All too often, my dad wanted the pain to “go away” and that meant he drank to hide the issues.
My dad taught us sports. Whether it was football, baseball, hockey, or basketball, he was out there a lot of nights teaching us how to play and to compete. An avid sports fan, what few channels we could get often were tuned to games.
He, along with my mom taught us how to cook, set tables and serve. Sunday meals were his “baby” and we could count on great meals to be on the table. Summers were made for grilling and my dad made sure we knew how.
My parent bought their second home, out in the middle of a field in a rural town. They (And us) taught us about gardening and flowers, landscaping and more. We learned camping, boating, and whole lot more from our parents.
Life was not always easy for me and my dad. We certainly had our share of disagreements. You do not get to be the eldest son, without an argument or two. ?
5 years ago, I authored a book on fathers. My dad is one of the heroes of it. I have not published it because I am not ready. Or lazy. Or scared. Who knows?
This weekend will be Father’s Day. It is going to be a lot different than previous years. Covid-19 has made the world a different place.
I miss my dad. I am going to miss seeing some of my family. The world is different. Our approach may change but the emotions and thinking behind it, do not have to. I wish I could call my dad. See him. (Only a few days ago 3 of my friends lost their dad. The funeral is Saturday. One day before Father’s Day.)
Take the time to call Dad or visit him if you can. midst of this time, holding on to the things that are precious are important.
