The Greatest Man I Never Knew
Most of my friends have one kind of Dad, I have another type of Dad. Although my type of Dad may be more rare, he does exist. There are other people who have written about their fathers and even sung songs about their fathers and I can totally relate to them. My song for my Dad is “The Greatest Man I Never Knew” by Richard Leigh which is performed by country artist, Reba McEntire, Richard Leigh and I had the same type of father. The one who works all the time and whose passion is their work. (See post below for the words to the song).
Leon had the type of father most people have. Leon’s eyes fill with tears when Luther Vandrose’s song, “To Dance with My Father Again” comes on the radio. He grabs my hand and dances with me while he sings the song in honor of his parents. I’m glad to be his dancing partner, but I can’t relate to Vandrose’s smooshy type of Dad.
My father had an amazing mind and could do large calculations in his head. He was an actuary and had a high position in a big corporation. My father liked making money.
With it, he knew he could provide for his family. Sadly, he didn’t really want anything or buy himself anything.
When I was younger, my Dad was away for months at a time. He’s traveled most of the world. I don’t remember missing him which is probably strange to most people. I loved when he returned because he showered me with gifts from his travels.
Other than working, my Dad came home and laid on the sofa to watch television. We didn’t have big dinner conversations. Sometimes he sat with us, sometimes he brought his plate to the living room and watched television while he ate. Now that I work, I understand why that some days you just need quiet. When we went to family parties or people came over, my Dad was the life of the party and told jokes to everyone.
In the evening, my Dad he always called for me to bring him a drink (first two sodas and then later when he went healthy, two waters). When I was younger, he liked to eat jello, ice pops and cake. He also liked eating liquorice and jelly beans. Later, he liked taking a lot of vitamins. He was 76 year old this year.
When I was a child, we drove to Long Island on the weekend. My Dad he had severe road rage. He cussed up a storm. I even remember him racing against other drivers who cut him off on the highway. Although he hasn’t driven in more than 20 years, I can almost still hear his cussing and feel the fast driving. It’s no secret, I’m a terrible driver just like he was.
He wasn’t the “regular type” of hugging and kissing Dad. When I was younger, he was a bit “warmer” and left kisses on the door on his way out to work. But for the most part, he was a Dad who owned a lot of suits and ties who went to work in Manhattan every day. His job required that he travel a lot. I know most children would miss a “regular Dad,” but I didn’t really. I was always glad to see him because he showered me with gifts from his travels. My Dad always gave me wonderful presents and signed cards “Love Dad.” Years later, I realized many of the cards were purchased by his secretary.
The year I was born, my parents lost their son. My father didn’t go to church and there was no sign of religion in his life. He paid for all of us to go to Catholic school so I am hoping that at some point before he died, he amended with God. I was there at the hospital when he received last rights from the priest.
My Dad loved to tease and joke with me. Sometimes his teasing went too far. As I got older, I didn’t find the teasing very funny. But everyone else found my Dad to be very funny. At his aunt’s funeral, my Dad’s cousins remarked that I didn’t find his jokes funny. She said she didn’t find her father’s too be funny even though everyone else did.
My Dad had a soft spot for pets and liked to give the dog biscuits or tease the cat.
He loved reading. When I was younger, he read a book a week. I donated over 400 of his books to the library one day because I wanted the shelf room for my books. He didn’t even notice they were gone because he had so many more. I got my love of books from him I’m sure.
My Dad loved good food. He liked going out for sushi and to other restaurants to have a good meal. My mother wasn’t a great cook, but he enjoyed her casseroles and holiday foods.He wasn’t handy, but didn’t stray from doing yard work or putting down tiles. He did what he physically could.
When I graduated from college, I walked across the stage and my Dad stood and clapped for me. Although I’ve had many greater accomplishments than that graduation, it’s one of my finest moments in life. He was proud of me. It was the feeling I’ve had all of my life towards him. I was glad to feel it in return.
My parents didn’t have an easy marriage. She was an alcoholic and it wore on him. My Dad was silent about this problem for many years. When I was in my twenties, I dated a guy who was an alcoholic for many years. When I broke up with him, my Dad and I had a short, but real conversation. My ex was a kind person who my family came to know. My Dad couldn’t understand why I would break up with him. When I told him that my ex’s drinking got to me and that I thought I stayed with him because I didn’t know of any other type of relationship my Dad became sad (and angry too). He said he didn’t realize how I had seen and wished their marriage didn’t affect me. When my brothers were younger, my mother hid the liquor in coffee cups and hid her bottles. It was the first time my Dad didn’t have anything to say so he left the room.
It was the first time I had a real conversation with him.When I was dating Leon, I wore a skirt that my Dad considered too sexy. He said he thought I should change before going out. I didn’t because I knew it must have been good if my Dad thought it was too sexy. Lee liked it. LOL.
My father was glad to be a grandfather, but since he was older he felt overwhelmed when around a baby for a long time. He was glad when I came over to play with my niece so he could go back to watching television.
I always felt like I didn’t know my father. But maybe there wasn’t much more to know. He was a good person, a good provider and did what he could. He wasn’t the type of father most people know, but I was proud he was mine.
I was glad to get the chance to tell him every single thing I needed to say. I know many people don’t get that chance. He had a hard time communicating because of his stroke and the infection his body was fighting, but he did what he could to respond to me.
I’m all over with this post and maybe one day I will come back and edit it, but for today it’s fine the way it is. My father wasn’t a saint. He was an ordinary man who did the best he could. I loved my Dad and I hope one day I will see him again.
Hugs,
marlene
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