My Father Lives On

Father's Day holds a special place in my heart, and it's because I was fortunate enough to have several older males in my family who were loving, caring men. The man I hold in the highest esteem is my dad. It isn't for the big gestures of love that he demonstrated, of which I am so fond and which are remembered with gratitude. But it's the small, everyday things that made my dad an extraordinary father.

At the age of four, one of my earliest life recollections is when I ventured into our freshly seeded back yard. The long expanse of gleaming mud beckoned to me.

Like a good girl, I put on my red galoshes before I walked out the back door and into the field of mud. I walked a short distance and can still remember looking back in wonderment at the deep footprints I had left behind me. Ah, but I stopped too long to look, because when I tried to lift my foot to take another step, my galosh and shoe were sucked from my foot. I tried with the other foot and met the same response.

I stood there, trying to figure out what to do. The only thing that made sense was to call out for help. My dad came running out the back door and rescued me from my dilemma. I was so relieved - and he didn't even scold me, except to warn me to not try it again. (My mom wasn't quite as nonchalant about the whole thing, but then she's the one who cleaned up my galoshes and muddy socks.)

The first dance I attended was a Father-Daughter affair put on by my Girl Scout troop. I was all of 11 at the time, and even though I was proud my dad was going to the dance with me, I was anxious because I had no clue how to dance. I was afraid he would be mortified by my ignorance. Instead, he displayed great patience showing his insecure daughter dance steps. I was able to relax and enjoy our time together.

I was the fourth female in our family that Dad taught to drive. Maybe he should have been a driving instructor because he had nerves of steel. Not once did he raise his voice to me as I learned to drive the '64 Chevy Impala - not when I almost hit a tree because I didn't let the steering wheel come back around as I turned a corner and not even when we literally flew across the railroad tracks. We always brought the car back safe and sound, and thanks to his teaching, I am a licensed driver who practices defensive driving.

Dad would do silly things that, at the time, embarrassed me, but now I look back on those times fondly. His antics reinforced to me his sense of humor. When he'd take me to a school function, he'd honk the horn to make sure everyone saw us. I was mortified, but he'd just smile and tell me to have a good time.

He attended a high school football game that pitted my school team vs. his alma mater. The first half of the game he sat on his school's side of the field; the second half he sat on my school's side. Just when I thought he had come to his senses to root for the correct team, he begins showing support for his school in our bleachers! And he had supported my school while he sat in the bleachers for his school. Talk about awkward moments.

Today, I would gladly go through all those episodes, and more, if I could. Two years ago, I received a call from the social worker at the hospital where he lived. She advised me that if I wanted to see my dad before he passed, I needed to get to Ohio as soon as possible. I was at least 10 hours away from where he was, so I called and asked for the phone to be put to his ear. I let him know I was on my way and that I loved him. Dad said he understood, then he said, "I love you."

I later found out those were the last coherent words he said before he fell into a deep sleep. I was on the plane when my father passed away. But everyday, I say or do something exactly as my dad used to do - so the wonderful person that he was lives on.