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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Dad

My dad would have been 75 today.  Eight years ago, just a week after his birthday, he passed away from complications following surgery for an aneurysm.  Hard to believe it's been that long already.

I don't remember my dad being around when I was a kid.  I have flashes of memories, like the bottles of Gilbey's gin under the bar in the kitchen and Dad sitting in the bright yellow chair at the dining room table.  But these memories are few. 

I remember him mostly after my parents divorced.  The first several years afterwards, we did a lot of fun things on the weekends with him - San Diego Zoo, the Wild Animal Park, TRW Night at Disneyland, Magic Mountain.  Maybe he was trying to make up for not being there all week, but he hadn't been around during the week before the divorce.  More than amusement parks, I loved when he read to us in that wonderful baritone voice - Animal Farm is still one of my favorites.

I was always glad that my parents were divorced.  My dad was a hard ass whose opinion was the only one that mattered.  I could never tell him what kind of music I listened to when he wasn't around.  I couldn't tell him about things that were important to me.  My teenager years were tough enough, figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be, without his oppressive presence.

He may not have been the best dad, but I think he tried.  He came to every event, even if it meant driving from LA on a Wednesday night and going back to work the next day.  I don't think he missed any softball or baseball games or choir concerts.  I always felt a great deal of performance anxiety when he was there, but the fact that was there meant something.

And then he got grandkids.  He could still be an jerk, but I think he finally was learning what he did wrong as a dad.  He was a gentler man with his grandkids.  He was a really good grandpa, and I am so sad that my daughter never got to meet him. 

We butted heads a lot, but I miss him.  I wish he could have been there when I got my Master's degree.  I wish he could see how his grandkids have all grown up.  I wish I knew more of his crazy stories about his childhood.  I wish I didn't miss him sometimes.

Peace, Dad.

   



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