My Father

Excuse me for a few moments as I indulge myself a bit of sentimentality here.

As a child the love I had for my father was unmeasurable. He was the rock of our family, the breadwinner, the one who took the whole family on vacations each summer, the main disciplinarian, and the one who set an example for me as a boy on what being a respectful human being and a man really meant.

While I loved him tremendously I don’t think until recently I ever came to appreciate him for who he was and what he did.

Parenting is tough work and even with the wonderful example of my father and mother to follow I haven’t always been completely successful at it. As for my father, even to this day I have people who knew my father from years ago tell me how he was such a good friend, honest man or their favorite uncle. He was part of a great generation.

He came from a large family with eight brothers and one sister. One of his brothers died of a childhood illness…I was named after him. Another brother was killed in a farming accident and my father, a teenager at the time, worked the farm supporting his brothers surviving family for a year. My father served in the army in WWII and was with Patton’s 3rd Army in Europe. During the war he lost another brother who was serving in the Marines in the Pacific. At the end of the war my father and mother bought an old falling down homestead/farm and rebuilt the house while living in the only standing room — they were both also working full time jobs. He worked for the same company for 35+ years, earning almost nothing by todays standards, while farming on the side. His hard work gave us everything we needed and some of the things we wanted.

He never had it easy but you’d never know it because he always made do and made it seem easy. I’m sure there were times he worried about things, about what tomorrow might bring, but I only remember how happy those times seemed. Those memories may be shaped by the kindness of time but they are also due to him, his love, his hard work and his sacrifices.

My father passed away from Leukemia 22 years ago and I still think of him often. I always appreciated and loved my father, but I’m sorry he didn’t live long enough to see me grow wise enough to fully understand the role he played in my life by being the person and father he was — but I certainly do now.

Happy Father’s Day!