Sunday, June 19, 2011
Father's Day
Today is Father's Day. Where to start? My dad was born in 1921. He grew up on a farm, so the depression didn't hit them so hard there. He didn't wear shoes anyway, so who needed them? My father was a charmer, he could tell you stories that you believed and then when you hit the punchline, you realized you had been taken again. He told my childhood friends that it rained worms. How can it rain worms they said? He said how else do they get on top of the sidewalk? I don't remember alot about my childhood regretfully. My father drank alot when I was very young, I don't know when he quit exactly, but I must have been around 11 or a little older. He smoked as well. He quit after we hounded him into quitting, siting grandchildren that didn't need second hand smoke ( my brother's childen), and that he needed to quit. He quit but 27 years later he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I knew the moment I was told, that it wasn't a good thing. They never removed the tumor from his lung, he had it in a rib and some lymph nodes in his neck. Chemo, radation that was just horribly intensely painful followed. He couldn't talk for 3 months because his throat was so raw. My father would have walked through fire to stay with my mother, because he already saw what was happening to her during his 18 month fight with cancer. My father loved my mother beyond infinity. They were married 58 years when he died. He asked me when he was in the hospital at the end to make sure that I would take care of my mother. I'm sure he knew it would be hard for us both, we were not compatible creatures, then again all I know is he wanted an answer that someone take care of her. My father looked at me one day when I had yelled and was so angry and said you aren't happy, you need to do whatever it is to make yourself happy. From my father that was deep, he didn't expound emotionally ever except physically affectionately. Well Dad, I am taking care of your wife, my mother and I got divorced. I can't say at this point any of this is making me happy, but someone told me I had the patience of Job, it will come. I miss you Dad, I love you and think of you everyday. I am sorry my mother lost you before she should have. The only good thing is that with time her hurt at your death and being left behind has faded. She hardly remembers what he died from or the long agonizing 18 months before. Happy Father's Day Dad!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment