My Dad Frank has evolved as a Dad. Growing up, was always a good provider to our family, a steadfast family man, never late to dinner. But Dad and I weren't that close.
The weird thing is that Dad and I did not become close until my divorce in 1995. Due to the circumstances surrounding our split, not many people were openly talking to me about my feelings and how I was coping.
Surprisingly, Dad was the notable exception. He opened up my feelings, opened up with his as well. He has this uncanny ability to agree with me no matter what I say. One day, I would be extremely sad and melancholy about the demise of my marriage, and Dad would be mellow and sad with me. The next week, I might be indignant and angry about my awful lot in life. And Dad would also express his frustrations.
Certainly, there were times when my ramblings were factually incorrect. Or times when I was just feeling sorry for myself. But during that fragile time in my life, Dad decided to be my correction tape. He filled in all the blank spaces in my story. He filled all the holes in my boat. When I came out the other side of my grief, Dad was still there. Maybe a little less gratuitous, a little less worried, but steadfastly by my side. No one else stood by me like that.
I was surprised when I realized that this man, my father, who is 35 years my senior, two generations removed in pop culture, was my ultimate best friend. But it was his simple love and commitment to me that made all the difference. He is still there, just a phone call or hop across town away.
As good friends lose their Dads, one by one, I am acutely aware how lucky I am to still have him in my life. He is still in good health, gives great hugs and experiments with new recipes he sees online or on the Food Network. I love his quirky little questions. "What is scoring?" he asked yesterday, referring to the process of using a knife to create small cuts in vegetables or meat before cooking.
I appreciate every second of my time with him. I'm trying to understand things from his era better. Which marbles in his prized marble collection are the most rare? Which pens in his pen collection are his favorites? Does he really need to collect pharmaceutical company pens that say "Flomax?"
Happy Father's Day, Pop. I love you.
