At my age, I day-dream about the next weekend, the next vacation, or count the days until retirement. At other times, again at my age, I spend most of my conscious effort on NOT forgetting the things I need to take care of. Things that I've committed to and run the real risk of completely forgetting about, only to disappoint those I've promised.
I was completely jarred out of this mindset this morning. The ride across the highway was slow today. The Pan American games are in town and traffic is a little slower than usual. On the 401, that tends to mean that you'll be sitting motionless for even longer than usual.
"Today is July 23 and we're in for a fantastic day in Toronto........." the radio pleasantly announced to me. July 23. July 23 is the day I lost my father. July 23, 1992 to be exact.
Has he really been gone 23 years? 23 years on the 23rd. Does that make some kind of champagne event, like a champagne birthday?
My father passed away in Sunnybrook Medical Centre after a long fight against cancer. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I think about that day often. I remember every detail and will always regret that I wasn't at his side when his time came. I'm sure he understands and doesn't hold it against me. Truthfully, I think he felt so horrible that he preferred we just leave him alone. Then again, you never really think that there won't be a tomorrow.
That day was three months before I married my wife on October 3. My wife and dad got along fantastically. My dad hated ALL of my previous girlfriends and the fact that he really liked my fiancé was a big deal for me. We wrestled with whether we should cancel the wedding but we decided to go ahead with the day. I'm still conflicted as to whether that was the right choice. In 1993, my daughter was born. In 1997, my wife gave me a son. He carries my father's name.
We bought a house in the suburbs where I found out, like my father, that I really enjoyed gardening. I never had any interest in it before home ownership. Now, Dad wasn't around now to ask for advice.
As a father myself, I discovered just how much I had become my dad. I would say or do something with my kids that would trigger a memory of my father.
I realize, often proudly, that I am a lot like my dad in many ways. I love a good party, a cold beverage and socializing with neighbours. We share the same sense of humour. With my receding hairline, I look just like him even if I'm a little taller and have more hair. When I come across old family friends or relatives that I haven't seen in a while, their first remark is how much I look like dad.
On Father's Day every June, I think of my dad. But being a father myself now, I enjoy having the day to myself. My father-in-law, another man that I loved and respected, has been gone for about 10 years now. Those fathers who still have their dads are often hosting or visiting their fathers on that day. I have that day to myself. I usually spend it in the garden with a cold beer.
For me, July 23 is Father's Day. It is the day that I think of my father the most.
Happy Father's Day Dad! I miss you.
PS
To my friend Rick, Happy Birthday. I hope your birthday is better than the day you spent in 1992.
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