My father was my best friend. I learned from a young age not to cross him — ever. I grew to accept that over time, as he was a powerfully strong role model my life. Nobody is perfect — my father certainly made some big mistakes in his walk through life, but his great focus, tremendous perseverance through challenges, charisma with the people in his life, and his ability to adapt to many types of situations — even despite his temper — was quite remarkable and definitely admirable.
My father taught me how to be a direct, focused, ambitious, strong, intelligent man. He was often a drill seargent with me when I was a kid: he showed me how to be an accomplished martial artist and *never* use it for show or competitions. He also showed me how to workout. We were even workout partners when I was in high school.
My father showed me the importance of learning; he helped me appreciate my now love for reading; he showed me how to use his vast collection of tools in our garage: we fixed and built many things together.
Our very last project together involved assembling a power tower gym set that he planned on using, had he recovered from Mantel Cell Lymphoma, a severe blood cancer. Even until the start of his aggressive decline in health, he was working out several days a week and could bust out several pullups on that power tower. All while he was 74 years old.
My father loved joking around and had a knack for knowing how to push people’s buttons with his teasing. But it was almost always in good fun. And his boisterous laugh could be heard around the world. I miss that laugh all the time.
My father was also the proverbial glue that held our immediate family together, despite our family coming from a long history of infighting and not always valuing our connections. I have too many sad stories of my family members being nasty to each other.
I knew that when my father passed, it was the beginning of the end for our family, as he was the rock who often rallied us together. I loved the countless times he came up with project style plans for how we could spend time together as a family and keep it consistent. Whether that be committing to a board game night every Saturday night, watching our favorite TV shows on Friday nights, listing out road trips to take, learning a new hobby, buying a closet full of supplies to go camping, buying me and him ATVs so that we could ride / off-road together — my father was always excited about making plans and sticking to them. Sometimes those plans worked out, sometimes they didn’t — but I will always remember my father’s enthusiasm.
I regret not giving a eulogy at my father’s funeral in January 2019. I couldn’t even begin to handle the the pain that day. I cried everyday for weeks, and I still cry often because I miss him more than I can even begin to describe.
I wear a memory of him as a necklace; I clutch it every morning when I put it on and when I take it off before I go to bed. Sometimes I catch myself doing that throughout the day as well. And just as I hope to be with my son again after this life, I also hope to be with my father again. I talk to him often in my prayers, and I always hope he is listening and knows how much I miss him.
So, I want to say to my father, whom I call Pop: I wish you the best Father’s Day possible — and know that everyday I do everything possible to make you proud.
Happy Father’s Day to my best friend.