The best thing I can say about Dad is also the best thing I can say about anyone: he was a nice man, a regular guy. He wasn’t tall, he wasn’t short. He wasn’t rich, he wasn’t poor. He was not powerful, his weaknesses were few. He was just your average Joe going about the business of supporting his family. In his era, that is what men did.
The lessons he taught me were by example. The most important of which is there is honor in working hard for a living. That one got through my thick skull. I’ve always had a job.
Growing up, I’m sure I was his biggest challenge. Oh, I wasn’t terrible, but I had my moments. He handled my shenanigans with kindness and compassion, never fighting my battles for me, but instead, pointing the way, and gently kicking my sorry ass towards the proper direction. I may not have lived up to all of his ideals, but at least I knew what they were.
When I sat down to write this I said to myself, “Rick, you shouldn’t make this about you,” but dammit, it is about me. Isn’t it? My feelings, my emotions, and after all, I’m writing this to make me feel better about losing him. I should have been closer. In life we don’t always have clean endings and good-byes, but we have memories to bring us through.