Tribute to My Dad

November 11, 2008

Today is Veterans’ Day. My Dad was a MM 1st Class in the Navy during WWII. It is my intention to share some about him.

I have never written about Dad. I am afraid that I wouldn’t be able to honor him in the way he should be honored. He was my hero, my confidant, my teacher, my conscious, and my rock. My Dad was a man of few words really. The words he said I took to heart.

He instilled in me many of my values by his example. He never missed a day of work. He was always the man to go see if you had some problems, he would listen. He never did anything unethical, let alone illegal. He was never knowingly unkind. I have seen him drive 50 miles one way to right a mistake that the store made in his favor. He always was calm. I knew he would always be there for me.

He was the most fair and equal parent I had ever known. He didn’t do the exact same thing for each of us. He explained we were all different; therefore he would do different things with each of us. But his time was equally divided. He went to all of my speech tournaments, all of my brother’s games, and supported my younger sister in her Girl Scout activities. I am not at all sure where he found all of the time to do what he did for us. He let us pick our activities and let us expand our minds and encourage us to use our hearts to choose the path we wanted to take.

He always supported his kids. I remember one particular day like it was a snapshot in my mind. Dad was sitting on the couch watching a football game. I was practicing, Boil, Boil toil and trouble for school. I was walking back and forth in the living room and using my best theater voice and gestures to get the part down right. My brother was playing the clarinet. He was standing in front of a mirror in the living room watching his favorite person in the world play. He was not yet playing well. My sister was just trying to talk to anyone. She is seven years younger than I am so of course she was annoying. She was describing her fabulous day at school, and didn’t mind the noise competition in the room. I stopped for a minute and looked at the scene in our living room. There was Dad moving his head around to see the game past his noisy children. I asked him if we should leave and let him watch his game. His answer was no. We were in the living room, living. That was where he wanted us, noise and all.

The Universe gave me my Dad, and I am forever grateful