Today is the first Father’s Day in which I don’t have a father.After my dad's funeral in September, I regretted not having delivered the eulogy. Maybe I was too overwhelmed at the time.
I hope that my brothers don't strictly remember our dad as the ill, cantankerous man he'd become in his last years of life. My recollections grow increasingly positive as months pass, and I realize he taught us more than even he ever realized.
The day my dad graduated from college, his father told him he wanted to take him to get a nice coat that he could wear on his upcoming interviews. He went to a clothing store with his parents, picked out an expensive coat and they all got in line to pay for it. When he reached the register, my dad turned around and his parents had vanished. When he finally tracked them down in the far reaches of the store, his father told him he would grudgingly loan him the money for the coat but wanted to be paid back.
My father told me that story as he and I drove home from my college graduation. It’s a daunting feeling, graduating with no idea what the future holds, and my father wanted me to know that he never wanted me to feel the way he felt with his parents that day in the store. Well done, Dad.
Last Sunday, I went to a block party on my older brother’s neighborhood. As his four-year-old daughter stood on the edge of a neighbor’s pool, she suddenly fell in. My brother didn’t hesitate for a second and dove in after her, fully-clothed. The only casualty was his cell phone. Well done, Andrew.
I called our mom and told her what happened, and she recalled a family trip in which out of the corner of her eye, she saw my older brother, then five years old, fall into a hotel pool. Our dad didn’t hesitate for a second, and dove in after him. Well done, Dad.
One of the chief responsibilities of a parent is to make sure his children feel safe and protected. And whether it was something as benign as a coat for interviews, or as life-threatening as a fall into a pool, for much of our lives our dad was there for us.
So here’s to our fathers. And their sons.
