Remembering My Dad

I lost my Dad 6 years ago today. I miss him. A lot.

I miss his wisdom. He knew how to do so many things, how to fix problems and make things work. He was a true jack of all trades, growing up on a farm, hot-rodding cars, working maintenance in a factory. When he didn't know what made something tick, he learned. That was invaluable to me growing up, and is still today.

I miss his friendship. We hunted, fished, cut firewood, played cards (pitch was our game).  We worked together on cars, the house, toys, projects, gizmos and gadgets--everything! We were volunteer firemen together. As I grew older, I realized how close we were. And it was just when I started to really appreciate him that it all came tumbling down.

I miss his advice. I never wanted it for a long time. Then, as it happens, the older I got, the smarter he got. Or so it seemed. I don't know how, but after I was out on my own for a while, he sure seemed to know a lot more than when I was at home. Funny how that is.

I miss all that we were not able to do. He was sick for a long time before we lost him. He saw his grandchildren, but never really got to play with them. I miss the fishing trips I never got to take with him and my son. I miss the soccer games he never got to see. I miss him never reading a book that I wrote.

I don't have any regrets. We did all we could with the time we had. Was it perfect? No. Life never is. Were there hard times, bad memories, hurts? Yes. Always. Do I want to be like him? In a lot of ways, yes. He was a good man. I learned the kind of man I wanted to be, from what he was, and what he wasn't. He knew his faults, told me not to repeat them. I try.

Today I remember. My Dad, my mentor, my friend.

I'll see him again, when my day comes. Until then, I'll remember the time we had.