Remembering My Dad

My dad was a role model. Someone you could always look up to (he was 6-foot-2, after all). The words to describe him easily come to mind: driven, meticulous, serious, compassionate, firm, stubborn and most of all, admired.

His famous saying, “I can’t make you do something, but I can make you wish you had” was one that I actually welcomed hearing in my younger days. That meant you wouldn’t feel the wrath of the belt or the backhand. But it also meant lost privileges and time spent in your room. Oh, the memories.

The work ethic of my dad was unparalleled. How many other dads would bring work home and, once the five of us were put to bed, would get right back to sorting invoices, checking ledgers and crunching numbers. Even some of us little ones got in on the act, putting checks in numerical order (the right order, I hope).

There was also volunteering – and lots of it. He would think nothing of mowing lawns, trimming hedges, shoveling snow or doing handy-work at the neighbors’ homes – often for hours at a time – with no expectation of monetary payment. He would be quick to remark, “Oh, don’t worry about it” or “I can’t take your money” and even went as far as putting the money inside their screen door once they bid us goodbye.

Then there was the little matter of putting up with our mom. She’s certainly one of a kind. And it takes a one-of-a-kind type of guy to make her happy. The cry of “Keith!” when she needed help disciplining us brings a smile to my face now. But at the time, it was more a feeling of sheer terror.

So what did I learn from my dad? I learned that practice makes perfect. I learned that I have “no stamina” (often said after I huffed and puffed my way to a medal in high school track). I learned that I have a one-track mind. Are these simply things he said to me, or did he mean them? They were motivational statements, carefully crafted to inspire my siblings and me to try a little harder. He wanted the best for us, but he didn’t just hand it to us on a silver platter. We had to earn it – and work for it.

How do I want my dad to be remembered? I look most fondly at him through the eyes of my own daughters. He was the best grandpa – much like I remember his dad. He was the “gentle giant” that was always there to pick us up when we stumbled. Always tinkering, always working on that next project, always trying fixing the things that were best thrown out and simply replaced.

Most of all, I admire my dad for being a Catholic. He wasn’t the most outwardly religious person. That was the role taken on by our mom. Rather, he practiced his religion faithfully and set the life-long example for all of us. It says a lot that he was a convert. Few Catholics who were born into the denomination practiced their religion as well as he did.

My dad was a role model. May his legacy live on in his five children, my own five children and my sibling’s children and eventually in their children. I love you, dad.

(Written Aug. 28, 2009)