Legacy of My Dad

I wish my Dad was still with me. I can conjure him in my mind, holding his pipe in his hand, with a whimsical smile, chuckling at some joke. He was not a touchy-feely type Dad since he held his feelings tightly inside but he used to poke my little belly as I tried to run past him in his easy chair without him tickling his target. I knew intuitively that he wanted to touch me and love me and this was his way of showing it.

Recollections of my contractor father taking me by his building sites make my eyes well up. I felt so grown up to be picked by him to spend this time alone with him, sharing what he loved. To this day, I am fascinated by real estate and that is one of his legacies.

When I was older no longer living at home, I would come home to visit my parents. My Dad would wait up with me until my mother had gone to bed and we would talk about little chunks of things that held importance to us both, sharing little slices of life.

I have to admit that my Dad had a few flaws. He used to drink heavily, starting in the late morning and continuing throughout the day. By the evening, his speech became a little garbled but he was always so kind with never an angry word. I didn’t realize until I was older that he drank way more than most folks because it was something I grew up with. It just was and I accepted it into my realm of being.

I could always depend on my Dad to do the right and compassionate thing. When I was nine preparing for my birthday party later that day, a man drove up to our house and opened his car trunk to show our dead Dalmatian dog which he had accidentally run over. Imagine the horror of a small child seeing her beloved dog lying in the trunk of a car. I cried for hours right up to the time my party was about to begin. I hadn’t known where my father had gone, thinking he was working but I knew he would be back for my birthday party.

He arrived home, cradling a Dalmatian puppy in his arms, presenting it to me

with all of his deep emotions showing on his face. I will never forget that moment in time because I cherish the memory and the warmhearted look on Dad’s face. I knew for certain that my Dad loved me and this was proof of my awareness.

My Dad was a child prodigy, starting high school when he was 11 after skipping three grades. He had a pushy mother who started him playing piano when he was three. It was possible that his high level of stress lowered his immune system because he contracted a severe case of rheumatic fever which necessitated bed rest for over a year. Because of this illness, he had a bad heart for the rest of his life. I never remember him doing anything active but he was cerebral and an avid reader. He used to sit on a chair with his book with my mother at our lake cottage, watching us swim and carouse, but he never joined us.

When Dad became a little older, he went into the hospital for simple cataract surgery. A massive heart attack during surgery took his life. The shock and belief that this didn’t have to happen has never left me. He left me the gift of kindness and love which will be with me always. I still sometimes see a man walking down the street with similar shape of his head or his little cowlick curling down his forehead and wish it were my Dad. But he is here in my heart where he will remain.