Happy Father's Day
To All Fathers, Grandfathers, Daughters, and Sons
Happy Father's Day!
Happy Father's Day to all Fathers, Daughters, and Sons, as well as folks who have been there like a father should, for children who are not technically his own!
This will be my first Father's Day without a father to honor. So what follows is a tribute to my Dad, a man who I miss every day. I hope you enjoy reading about a man who touched many during his esteemed life.
My Father was a very special man. When I was a little girl, my Daddy was my world. As I got older, we drifted apart. As a teenager, we were more distant, and I was sure he didn't understand me one bit. As an older teen, I thought he was stupid and out of touch. As a young adult, he seemed to be gradually getting smarter again. As an older adult, our relationship started to change. He became my dinner companion and my Drinking Buddy. He was my financial advisor and consultant when it came to things like investing and Real Estate. And our mutual respect grew with every passing year.
By the time I was 50, my Father had become one of my Best Friends. I was back to seeing him several times a week. As he aged, our relationship started shifting. He began to depend on me like I had depended on him when I was younger.
Then the world got sick. Terrance McNally, one of our favorite playwrights, was the first pandemic-related death in our area. Our Theatre subscription got cancelled, as the Theatre called off the rest of the season, closed and the world went into lockdown. I had to teach him to use Instacart remotely. It was several months until tests were available. and it was only after we all tested negative that we decided we were safe to see each other, so long as we took the appropriate precautions. My Dad, My Mom, and I were our own little bubble of safety.
We tried as hard as we could to get them a valued appointment when vaccines were finally available. They spent 6 hours in a Drive Through line when the first area "no appointment" vaccination drive through opened. They were lucky enough to get appointments for their second inoculation. My county instituted a lottery system once shots were opened to middle aged people, and I was lucky enough to get awarded a shot on the second day. But still, we followed all precautions and stayed away from crowds, using delivery as much as possible, and not going out for frivolous reasons.
During this period of societal social isolation, I got to know him better than I ever had in my life. He'd never been a really open person. He'd never been one to show emotion or open up about his feelings. He told funny stories rather than poignant ones. But this slowly changed as we spent more time together, with no one else to entertain.
We lost his best friend and my Godfather a couple of days after Dad's birthday. They had been friends since undergrad and had roomed together after they graduated, and again when Dad returned from his stint as a Navy Officer. My Godfather was my other Best Friend, someone with whom I was extremely close and to whom I talked to several times a week. My Godfather was like a teenage girl with the phone. It was his favorite hobby, and almost like an addiction. My Godfather loved me more than anyone else, and we depended on each other to discuss our issues and have heart-to-hearts about everything from feelings to world issues. Dad and I depended on each other to get through this devastating loss. Through the process of grieving, Dad opened up to me about things he'd never opened up to others about ever before in his life. I felt very honored to be the one he chose to finally be his true self with. At one point, during a very emotional talk for Dad, he told me I was the smartest person he knew, and that somehow, I had become his Best Friend.
I took care of him throughout the Pandemic, socially, emotionally, and physically, ensuring he remained healthy, both in body and spirit. A nomad for most of his life, he was itching to visit his second home in New York City. We made a deal: no New York until Broadway reopened. For over two years, he stayed in his Florida Home, safe in a cocoon of a town that kept its COVID rate lower than that of any other City in Florida.
And then Broadway started to reopen. The rest of the City was still only partially open, but a few productions announced dates for fully vaccinated patrons, with pandemic safety precautions in place. Florida had reopened long before, and most of the world was beginning to venture back out, albeit masked and armed with sanitizer. Dad got the itch, and they made arrangements to visit their Northern Home in mid August. Little did I know that that day I drove him to the airport was the last day I'd ever see him healthy again.
He was diagnosed with COVID three days after he arrived in New York. After too short a stint in the hospital, he was released and basically sent home to die a slow, suffering death. I spoke to him daily on the phone while he was in hospital, and his spirits were high, he sounded good, and I was sure he was going to pull through. After all, he was fully vaccinated. He kept telling me since my Sister lived close to NYC, he didn't want me to fly up. I finally ignored him an hopped on a plane too late. My sister had handled everything wrong, and I knew when I saw him, he did not have much time left. The day he left us, I knew it was imminent. I at least got to hold his hand while he died. I knew he was gone even before the health aides that were there to provide palliative care. I closed his eyes and started the mourning.
So this Father's Day, be sure to squeeze your Daddy's hand, if you are lucky enough to still have him. Despite the road it may take to get there, ensure you take the journey from being just a child to becoming true friends as an adult. Remember fighting is a sign you truly love each other, and try to understand life from his point of view. Don't let that anger fester for more than a short while, and then make amends, even if it means agreeing to disagree. It sounds cliché, but the time you have with your Daddy is always too short, no matter how many decades it lasts.
Forgive your Father for things that happened long ago. He tried his best, and you probably deserved most of what you got when you were a wee one. Get over those issues that keep you at arms length, even if it means a lot of introspection, processing, and even therapy. Know you can change neither the past nor who your father is as a person, so learn to live with him while you still have the time to get to know him, and maybe even understand him. Find those things you have in common you never knew existed.
I'm having a Tito's and Fever Tree Tonic, the vodka brand and the tonic brand I taught Dad to drink. He loved to repeat my mantra of "We're doing it all wrong; we were buying the BEST Vodka and mixing it with crappy tonic," when he served his new, better cocktail to friends and family. He used to be an Absolut fan, and considered himself quite the connoisseur. My Dad taught me many things. I am happy I had the chance to teach him a few things in return.
I leave you with a "WandaVision" quote that helps me when I'm missing my Daddy: But what is grief if not love persevering?
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