Grieving a Great Man

Tribute to my Dad and the Moments that Matter in Life

Today’s newsletter is going to be more personal and vulnerable than usual.

I just lost my Dad.

The world just lost my Dad.

And we could use more good men.

My Dad was more than a great man, he was a role model for how to love quietly and large. I’m sharing a bit of writing I created for my Dad around the winter holidays, which I read aloud to him when he was still able to take it in. I hope it not only gives you a picture of what my Dad meant to me, how his legacy might live on in the hearts of those who knew and loved him, and how important it is for all of us to be present for the people and moments in life that matter.

Aging parents are something that most of my inner circle is dealing with, but we don’t talk so much about it as a culture.

When I read this to Dad, he laughed and cried, and he shared more with me about what he was going through and how hard it was to lose his physical and mental abilities. He talked about surrendering to a new stage of life, always brave and selfless. I hope this bit of sharing inspires you to give those who mean a lot to you who are still on this planet a hug, a phone call, or a reason to tell them how much you love them.

I sat with you today, Dad.

It’s hard to have words to reach through the divide of this decline.

I could see that you hated

only taking a few laps around the house with your cane,

having Mom and me balance your checkbook,

feeling not “of use” to the family, as you always have been.

~~

I tried to tell you that you were always my “gentle rock,”

so, it’s hard for me to see you this way.

I said that sometimes we must slow down,

even if we don’t want to.

I don’t think I said the right things

Except

I love you, Dad.

~~

I hope you heard that last part,

amid the shame of not being able to do simple math

when you were always a busy accountant.

The Canadian brass drowned out the embarrassment.

You love all 22 of those Christmas songs

And swear you heard every one,

even though you napped through the whole CD.

~~

Dad, you were the one I wanted the school to call when I got in trouble

for being a truth-telling smartass (they couldn’t suspend me because I was right),

or when the teachers were worried about my eating disorder.

~~

Dad, you were the one who just shook your head and gently said, “Hello, Tom,”

when I hid my first boyfriend in the closet one night.

~~

Dad, you were the one who said it’s okay if I didn’t work for the family business;

plumbing supply was not my thing, and I should follow my dreams.

~~

Dad, you proudly walked me down the aisle,

and danced with me to Nat King Cole.

~~

Dad, you were the one who cosigned on my mortgage until I got my private practice

up and running again so that I could keep my daughters’ family home in the divorce.

~~

Dad, you were always the one I turned to when I needed advice

about big life decisions, finances, or spiritual matters.

~~

Dad, you quietly read your prayer books.

But I notice you’re not doing that lately,

so I wanted to get you a new one for Christmas.

Mom said she’d read it to you.

I want to see you not lose faith.

In yourself.

~~

It’s rough to lose mobility, mental capacity, memory, your wheels.

You are a gentleman in all the ways.

You never take credit or fanfare.

You are humble to a fault.

You always leave the treats for everyone else.

You never want anything.

Except to be with your family.

And do good.

~~

Dad, I’m sorry you’re having a tough Christmas.

You’re still my gentle rock.

And I know that life is rocking you quite a bit right now.

But maybe this time is for giving yourself the rest you need

After constantly being up late

click click clicking on your adding machine.

Trying to make a family of seven children work.

~~

You did it.

We all went to college.

We all grew up (at least mostly) and have jobs and lives

and wonderful real and chosen families.

We have kindness in our hearts because of you.

We turn the lights off when we leave a room because of you.

~~

I know that

I am a better parent because of you.

I am a better businesswoman because of you.

I am a more responsible, community-oriented person because of you.

I am kinder to all humans because of you.

I am gentle because of you.

I love big because of you.

~~

I am grateful to be your eldest daughter,

and I thank you for being one of the most influential

and important people in my life.

I love you, Dad.