Father's Day

Sunday was my first Father's Day without my Dad.
He died in May, four days before I started chemotherapy. He had surgery to replace a valve less than a week after seeing a doctor about shortness of breath. There were complications during the procedure and he never woke up. Or at least that's what they tell me. I wasn't there.

I wasn't even supposed to know about the surgery. My brother went behind the old man's back and told me the day before. He said Dad didn't want me to worry, in light of my own medical problems. And those medical problems kept me from being there to see him, and help my brother and uncle get through a tough time. (the only time I ever thought my brother may have needed my help) That's a bit tough to swallow.

Most men, at some point as they get a little older, realize they are, in some way, becoming their father. You say or do something one day and then thinkl, "Oh no, that was my Dad." It has been a hard realization for me to come to, since I've always told myself I would be a better husband, a better father than my Dad. Because he had his flaws. And the cycle of disappointment continues with my four-week-old son, who doesn't always think much of me. It could be because he is nursing and I can't help him with that. As a result, I am a regular source of disappointment for him.

Sometime after my treatments end, I will go home to Mississippi, help my brother pick a spot and spread the ashes. And I'll be glad to do it. Because even though my Dad and I were not especially close after I reached adulthood, we were friendly. He always remembered my birthday, was always ready for a good laugh and always enjoyed getting the pics I sent of our little girl, his granddaughter.

So, he was a flawed man, but not a bad man in my mind. And though we only spoke every month or two, I never dreaded picking up the phone and dialing his number. I wish I would have called him before his surgery, even though I wasn't supposed to know about it. I wish he could have held on for a few more weeks to welcome his first grandson. And Sunday, I wished I could have told him Happy Father's Day. It just didn't seem the same without saying those words.