The Doctor's blog: "In My Life"

Oh the joy of Fatherhood, it changes ones perspective on many things all at once! Yet, this is not about me, but about my father. My dad was in the military, army to be exact. He was not a perfect dad, for I have found out later in life that there is no such thing. I spent a lot of my younger years being mad at my dad, because of things I couldn’t do “because he said so” or things that I didn’t get to have. But I loved him like child would. It didn’t upset me until later years that he and mom didn’t attend my football, basketball, baseball or bowling games and banquets or band stuff, but they loved me, I knew that, Dad was too busy all the time, army, American Legion, 40 & 8. Yet my teen years must have been the hardest on him, for as I also found out later, we were so damned much alike. I was rebellious, coming at the end of the hippie generation in my teen years, anti-establishment, and since dad was army that meant him too.

I grew up and had children, when my daughter was born, it seemed mom and dad were always on the go still, but this same man who could sleep through a nuclear bomb blast, could hear the lightest sniffle of my daughter through two close doors. This is the same man that would spend $300 at the base commissary on food for my kids when they came visit, buying them whatever they liked (we had over 10 boxes of cereal for a three week stay!), this was not the man who I grew up with that I had to beg for 25 cents and them make it up with chores, who was this man.

Even when my son punched a hole in the above ground pool and let all the water out, it was me that got made, and my dad just laughed. We had become estranged over the years, not by choice, or mean words, but distance. I would talk to him when I called home, but it was always brief.

Then the miracle happened. I cannot to this day remember what prompted the call, maybe it was mom’s birthday, but at the same time, and I can’t remember what that was either, I was fuming at one of the kids, doesn’t matter which because I can’t remember for it was not important. Neither was whatever they did. What was important was that day for some reason, I talked to dad, really talked to him, and the first words out of my mouth were “Dad, I am really sorry for all the shit I did and put you and mom through.” He chuckled, and said “What did they do?” I guess I explained to him who and what was done. None of that, as I said, is really important, what was important that day was that we talked, really talked and became friends. I thought that I knew it all and I thought I knew my dad, but during our conversation I came to realize I knew absolutely nothing about my father. A lot of the stuff that I couldn’t have or do, I really didn’t need, I realize that now, as I realize he did many things for me for my own good (though it never seemed like it at the time, but I know better now). I had always admired and respected him, for who he was, and this grew even more that day. A few yeas later, on April 25, 2002, less than a month before his 67th birthday, he was called home to heaven. Many people that knew him had come from different parts of the country and the world, to come pay their respects to my dad, many I knew and just as many I didn’t. At the time of his passing there were no regrets, we had mended oh so many fences and bridges, I just wish that I had known my dad the way I know him now, when I was growing up, but that will always be the way it seems with parents and children.

So when my grandson was born, and his mother (my daughter) was talking about the things he was doing to get in trouble, or the problems etc. (he is only 4 now, lol, just wait) I tell her, you didn’t come with an instruction book, as I didn’t and neither did my grandson, we just have to do the best that we can to be good parents, and it won’t always be easy (yes, there were times that my daughter said “I hate you dad”, though I know like me she doesn’t mean it, she is learning, thank God faster than I did, lol and we are good friends). I learned that day so long ago that is because of my dad, that I grew up to be who I am and the kind of person I am, and I am proud to say “I am just like my Dad!”

Happy Father’s Day, dad. Though you are no longer here on earth with me, you are and always will be my father, and you did a great job raising me. You are always in my thoughts and prayers. I love you and I miss you so much.

May 21, 1935 – April 25, 2002