esrosedotblog

FATHERS' DAYrewritten Monday

I have written about my Dad in the blog.

Usually on his birthday or the anniversary of his death.

I suppose that Father's Day (or is it Fathers') is another good time.

He was a straight-ahead guy and didn't have much time for sentiment and clap-trap. And yet he could be moved to tears faster than any of us at a genuine moment of loss or gain or happiness.

He carried a lot of life wounds with him. He grew up in abject poverty as a country boy without a dad. He had to quit school in the 8th grade to go to work. He went off to WWII (volunteered) and saw friends splattered and dreamt of it the rest of his life.

But he never whimpered about it. It was all grist for the mill.

He was also a man with clear ideas and positions; something to rebel against. I did my best.

He gave as good as he got.

He tried to push me in a lot of directions that I didn't want to go. But, he was flexible. He listened.

He had a son who was hard to understand but he worked at it. And, when he understood my side, he let go and cheered me on my way.

He was always there for me.

Always.

Toward the end, we put down the arguments and just enjoyed being together.

He didn't need or want much. Just presence.

I could give him that.

I was able to say a loving goodbye to him at the end. I know that he heard it; a great completion.

He didn't have a Dad to learn about fatherhood from. He figured it out by trial and error.

He was a great power of example.

What else could one ask? What could be a better lesson? How else to be a good father?