Loss with Memories That Bring Joy - My Sixteenth Entry

I am writing this while sitting on an airplane headed for Miami Florida and my father’s funeral. My wife, Susie is next to me and my kids and son-in-law are meeting us. I am experiencing a profound sense of loss and sadness over my father’s death and as I write this, tears are sometimes streaming down my face.

As I think about my father, I am remembering the joyful times, the funny experiences and the love he had for his boys and their families. My dad lived 79 years and survived until he was 81. He wasn’t the happiest man in the world and his life wasn’t filled with amazing successes. He was intensely insightful, talented, thoughtful and artistic. He loved sailing, photography and sculpture.

He would have been better suited as an artist or a musician, but like many men who grew up in the depression and served in World War II, he took responsibility and family as a higher calling. He and my mother raised 3 sons of which I am the oldest, most compliant, shortest, baldest and best looking (ha-ha). He wanted his sons to enjoy the success that he didn’t. We each became doctors with great marriages and kids. I guess he got his wish.

Like with all father son relationships, we didn’t see eye to eye, yet I am what I am today because of him. When he gave you ‘the look’ with his stone pale blue eyes, you knew you had to pay attention. I played violin. I became an Eagle Scout. I attended law school. All these were partly to please him. These three experiences and many others were valuable and have had lasting positive effects on my life.

It was cathartic when I quit law school at the end of my 3rd semester. After several fearful days, this 26 year old man with 2 college degrees called his dad to tell him that “I was quitting law school”. I didn’t flunk out, I quit. I hated it! When I told him, his disappointment was palpable, yet what he said was that he only wanted good health happiness and success for me. This decision gave me the freedom to find my own joy, which I have found in counseling psychology, writing and giving talks.

My dad loved his family and was proud of his 3 sons, 3 daughters in law and 6 grandchildren. His Parkinson’s disease robbed him of many things; his art, his voice and his independence. What it could not steal and won’t ever take is his enduring effect on me. There is no doubt that he is in a better place now. The last 2 years were nearly unbearable for him and for us. Yet I choose to remember what is truly important.

· I remember his being a great scout leader and our camping trips when I always had a dry tent.
· I remember his watching 3 baseball games in the sweltering Miami heat even though he hated baseball.
· I remember his driving 350 miles to see his oldest grandson in a national dance competition
· I remember his spending a week in the basement of my home so that his granddaughter could have the lights she wanted in her dollhouse. (Unfortunately, I didn’t inherit the mechanical skills.

Thanks Dad, I owe you for the person... the father I am today. I love you now and I always will.