After my dad’s funeral my brother, my brother in law and I
were clearing out my dad’s closet. We were looking to see if one of us or
someone else we knew could use or fit into some of his clothing or shoes. My
brother in law made the statement that none of us could fill his father in
law’s shoes. He was absolutely correct.
During the few weeks after the passing of my dad I heard lots
of comments about how much I am like him. In many ways I took the comments
about me being like my dad as they were intended, as compliments. However, a
part of me winced at these statements.
I felt like my dad spent a lot of time and energy trying to
live up to his father. His dad pushed him to be like him and in many ways you
could sense the disappointment my grandpa felt towards dad, or maybe I was
sensing my dad’s own feeling of him disappointing my grandpa.
When my grandfather died I felt like my dad had a lot of
heartbreak, hurt and mixed feelings to deal with. In looking at the choices my
dad made it was obvious that the way he choose to be a father was to spend time
with his kids and wife. He took us fishing. We went on vacations all over the
US. All four of us had him as a soccer or basketball coach at one time in our short-lived
athletic careers. His presence was always felt at our activities. Mom and him
even went so far as to attend most of the freshman and sophomore level
basketball games that I kept statistics for. I’m sure that they were cheering
me on with “excellent writing of that three point play there Tim!” or “way to
get the whole floor clean with that dust mop during halftime!”
As a dziadzia/grandfather my dad went out of his way to be a
part of his grandchildren’s lives. At least once a year my mom and dad traveled
to California to spend time with my sister, her husband and my niece and
nephew. My mom would often come over to Kansas City to help out my wife, Sarah,
when I was traveling. Dad would always initially say that he probably wouldn’t
come over because he had too much work. In the end he’d always come because, as
he told my mom, “I’d hate to miss something.”
The greatest gift my dad gave to me was expecting me to be honest, a devoted husband and a loving father. I never felt pressure to follow the same life paths my dad did. I
always knew that he loved me unconditionally (I know this because of some of
the bonehead things I did, like driving 110 mph on I-270 in St. Louis). I don’t
want to leave the impression that things were always easy, or that we always
got along, but I can honestly say that I have been overwhelmed with gratitude
and joy for the time I had with him.
In the end none of us (my brother, brother in law and I)
could physically fit into my dad’s shoes and they were given away. His shoes wouldn’t fit us and I
think he would have loved that.
I didn't give up completely on them. I try to hold onto hope in regards to my garden. It's really all I have! So I kept the areas that encircled what used to be my rhubarb plants clear of weeds, and even dropped a bit of compost on them. To my great surprise (and joy) one of them came up. .500 would be a record setting average in baseball even though my friends who are into baseball stats would remind me that it is an extremely small sample size.