Log In | Register
My Dad Christmas day 2011 in Florida. He and my mom decided they wanted to have a golf club in their hand on Christmas day. Goal achieved.
My Dad passed away last night at 10pm. My sister and I held his hand as he passed so that he didn't pass alone. For the last few months he's valiantly fought against lung cancer. Two days ago, the cancer restricted his heart causing blockage in one of the arteries, which caused him to have a heart attack. He agreed to have a stent put in the artery, but he knew that it was a last ditch effort.
He made it through the surgery but never recovered from it. He slowly slipped away the following day until his eventual passing.
My dad meant the world to me.
The two traits that I think defined my dad was his stoicism and steadiness. My dad never rushed or dawdled on anything. He was steady as she goes. When he met my mother, she refused to go out with him. His response was to show up at her front door (my Aunt's front door, really, since that's where my mom lived at the time) every day at the exact same time so that my mother could refuse him. Finally, my aunt told him to show up an hour and a half after his normal time. He followed her advice and when he showed up an hour and a half later than usual, he asked my aunt if my mom had noticed. She had and had wondered out loud to my aunt where "Harry" was.
When he heard that he said, "Good. Then I still have a chance."
Shortly after that my mom told him she would consider going out on a date with him if he cut his long hair. He immediately did so and the rest is history.
I very rarely saw my dad shed a tear or admit how much something hurt. I once watched him cut his arm on a piece of sheet metal in the shed. He'd cut an artery and the blood was shooting out in spurts. He calmly covered it and applied pressure. My mom insisted he go to the hospital and when he got there he was put in the waiting room to wait. After a long time and numerous attempts to get the doctors attention, he uncovered the wound and sat there bleeding in the waiting room. He was admitted shortly afterward.
My dad possessed a keen intelligence and a photographic memory. He could tell you the license plate number of the car he'd owned thirty years ago. In most things he was patient but he didn't have a lot of patience for stupidity.
My dad and I didn't always get along when I was a teen. He must have thought of me as an alien because I was so unlike him. He loved to work and you could always find him tinkering with something mechanical. I on the other hand, would rather have a book in my hand or make an attempt at drawing. I was also an emotional kid and while I've always had a job, it isn't something I self-identify with.
But through all the ups and downs he was always a constant. I could always count on my dad to be there when I needed him. He was a pillar of strength and a guiding light. He taught me about honor, being truthful and how to be a man. He was a great father and a great husband. If I can achieve half of what he did, I would count myself lucky.
I love you dad and you'll never be forgotten.
