For my Dad. And my Sons

First, let me confess that I have started and rewrote this post several times.

None of those times did it suit me.

Tomorrow…

Tomorrow morning, this version will probably not suit me either.


Today is Father’s Day.

Physically, I lost my Father in 2003. But I still miss him.

My Dad lost his Father in 1972. One day in 1997 my Dad mentioned that on that day his Father would have been 100 years old. That lets me know that twenty-five years later, he still missed Grandpa.

I once heard that no boy ever becomes a man until he has lost his Father.

That is probably true. After dad is gone a boy must not only make his own decisions, but live with them. While Dad is alive he has a backup; a fail-safe – a mentor.

No matter how much they did not get along during those damned teen years.

Afterward, he has his own to feet to stand on, and his own to hands to bail him out; his own experience as a mentor.

During my Dad’s eulogy all of his kids spoke. We talked about what Dad taught us.

One of my brothers said that Dad taught him two things: That the designated hitter rule had made a mockery of baseball, and never beat up on your nephews; one day they will be bigger than you.

The whole church, full of National League fans (and my dad’s nephews) laughed.

And there is much to laugh about.

One of Dad’s stock phrases, when asked if he needed anything was: “bring me back a couple of dancing girls”.

For his 65th birthday, we got him a dancing girl; a belly dancer, who filled the living room with her discarded veils.

He never asked for something like that again. I don’t know if it was because we had fulfilled his wildest fantasy, or it was because he was afraid we would bring him whatever he asked for. Which we would have.

One of the problems with age (and I’m not yet 50) is that you gain perspective. I have yet to meet anybody in their 20’s on Ancestry.com. You need to be able to see the past and the future in order to WANT to see the past, and the future.

I knew my Grandpa, who knew his Dad (however briefly; Great-Granddad died when Grandpa was about 10). I also know my granddaughter; who will (God willing) be herself a Grandma in about 2050; the same year my Great-Granddad would have turned 200 years old.

That gives you perspective. I can (kinda) see 150 years into the past, and 50 years into the future. A chain of my Great-Great- Grandfather, Nickolas; his son Heinrich; his son Harry; his son Harry; me; my son Lee, and (to date); his daughter Brianna, and her progeny.

Would Nickolas have imagined his Great-Great- Grandson even knowing his name? Probably not; he was a carpenter/furniture maker in Germany 150 years ago. Hell, he probably never had a clue that Father’s Day was ever going to exist.

But tomorrow I am going to put flowers on his son’s grave; and his grandson’s; and his great-grandson’s, and, hopefully, his great-great-great-grandsons will do something to honor me.

After all; it’s Father’s Day.

To those of you are Fathers or grandfathers; my best wishes for a memorable day.

To those who are children, remember your Fathers; for all their faults, they did the best they could.