Missing my Dad…
I looked at the calendar today and saw the date. September 22nd. Suddenly it was 12 years ago, just after 6:00 am and the phone was ringing. I got the phone call every child dreads… my Dad was dead. Luckily, if there is such a thing, he died in his sleep. Went to bed and just never got up again… jeez! He was only 67 years young. He suffered from poor health for many years. He was diabetic, had congestive heart failure, and had a 6-way heart bypass, but even with that knowledge it didn’t make the news any easier and I was devastated. He was the heart of my family. The glue that bound us all together and kept some of the crazier members of my family tolerable. He was firm with his opinions. He expected us to comport ourselves properly. I learned well from him, even if some others in my family did not.
He loved to sit next to me on the sofa when I would visit and twist my long hair in his fingers. When I was a kid, this irritated me beyond belief, but I was just a teenager, a stupid teenager. When I got older and his health declined, I realized what joy it brought him, so I would sit there and let him do it. Oh, believe me, I pretended to be a little annoyed, occasionally swatting his hand away and saying “Dad!” in a semi-exasperated tone. I needed to do this, to play this little game, because I knew it made it more fun for him, and I really just wanted him to be happy because I knew deep down he wouldn’t be around for much longer… maybe just a few years… and I was right.
He also loved when I would bake for him. Every time I visited my parents in Vegas, I would break out all the ingredients and make my Dad a batch of chocolate chip cookies. He would get so giddy! They were terrible for him and his diabetes and I knew it, but I also knew it was a special treat and his time was short. Food made my Dad happy… he was very Italian in that regard. After he passed away, I always made a chocolate cake for him for his birthday on January 7th…. of course, whomever was around that day would get to eat it, so it was always a happy occasion!
In 1990, I was able to travel to Italy with just my parents. No other siblings. Just the three of us. We had such a amazing time! I have a hilarious photo of my Dad standing in the doorway of one of the hotel dining rooms where we ate breakfast one morning. It was a simple continental breakfast. Nothing special. But it cost $110 US for the three of us. So on the way back in to the hotel that afternoon, he ran over to the dining room entrance and pulled his pocket inside out and asked me to take his photo. He has the silliest grin on his face! That photo is missing from my album, so I’ll have to reprint the negative.
While we were there, we visited Ostia Antica, just outside of Rome. I climbed on the base of a statue so my Mom could take my photo, but my Dad must have been worried I might topple off it, so he held me up by putting his hand on my butt. It makes me giggle even now. Oh, and the toothpick hanging out of his mouth… he loved to chew on toothpicks! For his birthday one year, we all pitched in and got him a solid gold toothpick! It’s one of my favorite photos from that trip! Here it is and a few others from that same trip:
Me and Daddy
Now this photo is one of my all-time favs. In 1987, my family went to Park City, Utah for the Thanksgiving holiday. While we were there, my parents scheduled a family portrait on the ski slopes. After the compulsory photos of all of us together, I requested a photo with just my Dad and me… no one else. With 3 other siblings in my family, I rarely got time alone with either parent, so I treasure this photo:
On this last day of Summer, the anniversary of my Dad’s passing, I just wanted to write a little something about him so everyone knows I had a great Dad. He was by no means perfect, but he was a very good Dad to me. I still miss him every day. Now, if you’re reading this, go give your parents a hug and if they aren’t within hugging distance, then call them and tell them you love them! I’m calling my Mom right now…
