I miss my dad. While he was an enigma, he had faults and foibles - he was my Dad. I was mad at him for a long time, I was even cold and mean to him, aloof and sometimes distant, but he never, ever returned the sentiment. I can't recall a time when we (or I) was going through our rough period that he ever had a cross word for me. He just let me be mad and I guess he figured I would finally get over it or let it go.
He was the proudest father on the face of the earth - of me. He would brag about me, he would parade me around to his co-workers and have the red carpet rolled out, he would take me to his synagogue (yes, my father was Jewish and could even speak fluent Hebrew), he would set up dinners for me with his friends to regale stories. He made a special trip to my first duty station when I was in the Army and met with everyone from my Brigade Commander on down to my Platoon Sergeant to see how I was doing.
He did some things to my mother that made me M.A.D. and I took sides, but he was always there for me, always a part of my life - he never let my attitude get in the way of being a dad.
He trusted me implicitly. When he was diagnosed with a brain tumor, he asked me to come with him to meet with his neurologist and surgeon to hear what his options were and to help him make a decision. I remember that meeting like it was yesterday. We sat there listening to the options, I asked a bunch of questions and when they asked what course of action he wanted to take, my father looked at me and asked me what my opinion was - what did I think he should do. Wow. I did NOT want that on my shoulders and told him so. He said, "I value your opinion, your medical knowledge (okay Dad, Imma pharma rep, come on), and I want to know what you think. Please." I gave him my analysis, told him what I would do if it was me...and that was that.
Unfortunately, my father never left the operating room and he was buried on my birthday. The circle of life come full circle. So many things left un-said, but I think he knew anyway.
He was the proudest father on the face of the earth - of me. He would brag about me, he would parade me around to his co-workers and have the red carpet rolled out, he would take me to his synagogue (yes, my father was Jewish and could even speak fluent Hebrew), he would set up dinners for me with his friends to regale stories. He made a special trip to my first duty station when I was in the Army and met with everyone from my Brigade Commander on down to my Platoon Sergeant to see how I was doing.
He did some things to my mother that made me M.A.D. and I took sides, but he was always there for me, always a part of my life - he never let my attitude get in the way of being a dad.
He trusted me implicitly. When he was diagnosed with a brain tumor, he asked me to come with him to meet with his neurologist and surgeon to hear what his options were and to help him make a decision. I remember that meeting like it was yesterday. We sat there listening to the options, I asked a bunch of questions and when they asked what course of action he wanted to take, my father looked at me and asked me what my opinion was - what did I think he should do. Wow. I did NOT want that on my shoulders and told him so. He said, "I value your opinion, your medical knowledge (okay Dad, Imma pharma rep, come on), and I want to know what you think. Please." I gave him my analysis, told him what I would do if it was me...and that was that.Unfortunately, my father never left the operating room and he was buried on my birthday. The circle of life come full circle. So many things left un-said, but I think he knew anyway.
Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I miss you
