It’s Father’s Day and I find myself reflecting upon fatherhood, and all I can think of is my own Dad. It’s funny, you probably wouldn’t find my Dad as a textbook example of sterling fatherhood. He wasn’t a great financial success, so we weren’t spoiled with anything we ever wanted. He was gone a lot when I was growing up because he worked shift work, so you couldn’t say he was always there for us. When we were little he did this thing when he felt we needed to be put in check; he’d stand up from the dinner table and touch his belt buckle. We all knew what that meant. Keep it up and we’d get a whuppin’ from his belt. Funny, no one ever felt the snap and whip of his belt. He never took it off as far as I remember. What a bluff! He left the corporal punishment to my mother. She gave me the worst spanking of my life! My Dad didn’t have scholarly credentials, he only got as far as the eighth grade. And his work record was quite a mish-mash of shiftless wandering! He worked on a farm at thirteen. He was a railroad worker. He was a meat cutter. He worked in the Safeway meat department. Then he became an electrician and worked on submarines during WWII on account of his arthritis kept him out of the military. He lived in Yerington, Nevada, San Francisco, San Mateo, and he finally settled in Ukiah, California. What a drifter! He worked for a time for a local Electrical Contractor, but when he got an opportunity for steady shift work he got a job at the local manufacturing plant as an electrician. Physically the man was a wreck. In addition to the arthritis that gnarled his hands and kept him in constant pain throughout his body, (as well as his never-ending search for a cure), he tore the ligaments out of both knees, (twice) had his left wrist set so he couldn’t flex his hand inward, cataract surgery in both eyes, shoulder surgery, broke his arm falling off a ladder, and was given new teeth when he was fifty-something which was really unnerving when he smiled because he didn’t look like my Dad anymore. When compared with today’s medical procedure’s, all of these injuries took place during the Dark Ages of medicine, so he had huge scars all over his body. Oh, and the man had stinkfoot! Bigtime! He’d pay us a quarter to unlace and take off his work boots. It wasn’t enough. And did I mention his sweet tooth? There’s a famous story about that. While vacationing in North Tahoe, my parents were out to dinner with relatives. Everyone ordered steak, and chicken, and fish, and what not, but my Dad ordered a banana split! Give that man a pound of rock candy for Father’s Day and he was happy as a clam! So why do I think of my Dad as a great Dad? I suppose it’s because in spite of everything, when you sat down with him he was really present. He was always so curious to hear what you were thinking and what you were feeling. He was gentle and kind and a far cry from the guy who touched his belt buckle. And intellectually he was probably the smartest man I ever met. He read everything and could discuss almost any subject from how to split rails to how to split an atom. And he loved us all so much. How do I know that? Well, he was the one who cried at our weddings and was there when we really needed help. And there were moments: Once on Christmas night he had to work and my brother and I brought him a warm turkey dinner plate. I think I was fourteen at the time. He met us at the gate of the plant. When I handed him the plate in the rain he leaned down and kissed me on the lips. Yuck! What was he thinking? When I got older I appreciated the gesture. Another time I was going on a long trip and before I left he looked me in the eyes and told me he loved me as his voice caught and I was frozen unable to respond. My Dad overcame the death of his parents at age thirteen, his lack of education, and incredible physical challenges that would have brought anyone to their knees, and never missed a day of work if he wasn’t in the hospital. Although we weren’t rich, we were never in want. If one of us had an important event like a baseball final, or band recital, somehow he showed up; sometimes dirty, straight from the plant, but he showed up. No one could have asked for a more warm and gentle soul for a father. My father died twenty-two years ago, and I still miss him all the time. Today is Father’s Day, and I can’t think of a better Dad than my own. Happy Father’s Day Dad! Have an extra piece of rock candy on me!
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 17:07:55 +0000
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