I don't remember much about my father
When I was born, he was 58. I don't remember doing a lot of things with him. We went to Galena, and Springfield, and Dewey Lake. But it's all kind of blurry.
We never talked. When I was in college, he started showing signs of what's now diagnosed as Alzheimer's. I would come home from Northern and he would say hello, and the next morning he would be surprised I was home.
In the great blizzard of 67, he insisted on going with me to the train station to catch the train back to DeKalb. Transportation was a mess, and here was this 67 year old guy making sure I got to the train safely. He even carried my bag.
I am almost that age now.
When ever I left the house for school he always asked if I had enough money. We didn't have a pot to piss in, but he was worried I wouldn't have money for the train or food.
He smoked like a chimney. He had a bad temper. He had fits of sneezing. I too have fits of sneezing and I have a bad temper. I am like him in many ways.
He hummed when he walked, and he always walked along the curb in case there was money in the gutter. He would pick up every penny he found, no matter how embarrassed I felt.
He never graduated high school, I don't even know if he attended high school. There was a period of maybe 13 years when he lived in California, working on a dude ranch. I know he was in the US Army in the first world war, although while he was in basic training in Rockford the war ended.
I don't think it's a family secret, but he may have been mentally ill. He had very peculiar beliefs, and said some very peculiar things, and claimed some very peculiar happenings.
I'd like to think I was a better dad to my girls than he was to me.
I don't remember him reading to me, or playing catch with me, or taking me to a Cubs game.
If I had it to do over, I would be a better son. I didn't realize how tiring life can be when you are 58 and you have a 10 year old boy, a menial job, and maybe some issues that even he was unaware of.
If I had it to do over, I'd be a better father.
I'd be more of a hugger. More of a reader. More of a listener. I'd be home more, instead of at work. I'd take more time to get to know them. I wouldn't get so upset at the messes they made, or the food they didn't eat.
I'd pick up that suitcase and trudge through three feet of snow just to make sure they got on the train safely.
He has been dead since 1977, which means I have spent more of my life without him then I did with him.
Yet, I do miss him. Now I wish we had spent more time together. that I could have learned more about him. Maybe helped him in some way.
And while I think I did ok as a father, I know I could have done better.
So any young dads reading this, realize this moment in time will disappear faster than you can imagine. Create those memories, those bonds. Don't let your kids grow up as strangers to you.
That's it.
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