I had 41 years with Dad. Not nearly as long with that great man as I wanted – as I felt I deserved. But as he would have said himself, 41 years is ‘better than a jab in the eye with a sharp stick.’
He was a great Dad when I was coming up. For one thing, he was unusually demonstrative and attentive for a father. He was a single father for a long time. He said that meant that he had to be both mother and father and took both roles seriously. We hugged and touched frequently – real hugs not awkward man-hugs. He was not afraid to put his arm around me or hold my hand. He was gentle with me both physically (never laying a hand on me in anger) and emotionally (he called it non-critical parenting).
Dad took my care seriously and was personally offended if anyone questioned it. An example comes to mind when he had a bit of a dust up with my middle school principal. Dad had met with the principal to let him that I had been late because he kept me home deliberately to rest. The principal told him to buy me an alarm clock which made dad livid. His response was that I did not need an alarm clock because he woke me every morning with a kiss. That wasn’t rhetoric. Dad really did wake me every morning with a kiss.
He was devoted to his children and never seemed to tire grow weary of helping us to thrive. I got my first job at 14 working weekends on a Rhododendron nursery. Dad was working five 12 hours shifts at the time as a pipefitter. Rather than sleep in on the weekend, he woke up early to make me a hot breakfast and pack me a lunch. I made $20 a day. The lunches he packed cost him $10 a day. It was not a very economical arrangement for a man on a razer thin budget. I asked him about that years later as an adult. He shrugged and said ‘it takes a lot of groceries to turn a boy into a man.’
More than half of my relationship with dad was as an adult son. As great a father as he had been to me as a kid, I think he may have been a better father to me as an adult. We managed to stay very close despite our geographic distance by speaking on the telephone daily and regular visits. He was indispensible to me as a source of advice. He had such a sharp mind that he could provide genuinely useful advice on all topics. Even as a lawyer, I continued to look to him for advice on how to handle my cases and his advice continued to be right on.
I would not call him my best friend because he was much more than that. I relied on the sense of safety that he somehow managed to provide even as I was an adult. I am not quite sure how he managed to do it but I always felt safe and stable knowing that I could reach out to him.
