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Many times you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I always knew I had a wonderful father. But now that it’s been almost a year since he’s passed, the full impact of what I’ve lost is sinking in. Here are 8 traits he had that I believe go into making a great Dad…

He’s fun – My earliest memories are my father smiling and laughing. He always enjoyed doing kid stuff – building snowmen, throwing us squealing and laughing into the ocean, running behind as I learned to ride a bicycle. He loved neighborhood softball games, fireworks, taking Sunday drives, joking around the dinner table, and sharing a bag of salt water taffy. He loved being a Dad.

He teaches – Somehow my father survived tutoring me in math. We’d sit at the kitchen table where he’d patiently explain adding and subtracting…over and over. Multiplication and long division followed.  When I was an adult, he miraculously taught me how to play the stock market. Up till the months before he died, we both loved watching CNBC together, following that ticker tape across the screen.

He’s an example – Dad was a self-made son of Swedish immigrants. College was an impossible luxury. Yet he pulled himself up from milkman to local salesman to a well-placed job in the software industry. As a child, I never wanted for anything (a gift not every child has) and that was because of my father.

He’s generous – Even though Dad never went to college, he made sure I did. My senior year of high school he took me to visit different campuses. I sometimes wondered what he thought of this academic world so different than the U.S. Navy he joined at 17. If he was envious about never having the same opportunities, he never let on.

He’s protective – One time our family was at a town little league game. I was 12 and stuck up a conversation with an “older boy” of 14. We walked and talked and before I knew it, we were in a dark, quiet part of the parking lot. My heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

Then I heard my name. I turned to find my father standing about twenty feet away. “Laurie, I need you to watch your little brother.” Even though the boy was a good kid with probably no more than a kiss in mind, years later it occurred to me my father must have watched him and I walk farther and farther away. He’d gotten up and followed. He looked out for me.

He’s human – Like many men, my father became more emotional as he grew older. Of course, he got misty-eyed on my wedding day and when he held each of his grandsons for the first time. But there were other moments when his tears surprised me – the rare times he talked of the navy; an unexpected gift or compliment; reminiscing about his boyhood in New Hampshire. He’d have to stop and collect himself. I saw how his feelings ran deep even though he rarely spoke of them.

He cares – The last few years were tough. Dad had Parkinson’s disease and was in an out of hospitals. Even lying on a gurney with feeding tubes and intravenous needles in his arm, he’d turn to me. “What are the boys doing today?” He was always interested in his grandsons. I think of the times I’d come to him with a problem, from kid stuff to more serious when I grew older. He’d stop whatever he was doing and listen, his face concerned. He’d give the best advice he could, which was always good.

He’s strong – One of my father’s last words to me were, “Keep writing.” He could barely speak, let alone swallow. The bustle of the hospital went on outside his door. He had no life left, dependent on others for everything. And yet there was never a trace of self-pity.  He was an incredible example of grace and dignity in the worst circumstance.

And then one day last July, he was gone.

And as this year has flown, the reality of his death – and what he gave — sinks deeper.

I want to believe he looks down on my mother, sister, brother, and me. He sees us laugh and sometimes cry. He cheers when we have a victory and sends comfort when we’re sad.

I want to believe my father’s still close.

I want to believe – somewhere – my father’s still smiling and laughing.

 

What thoughts do you have of your father? Comments are always welcome and if you like, please share. Thank you!

Comments(26)

  1. My father is everything to me, as I know my husband is everything to my son. Lovely post and oh, so true. Your father would be very proud of you.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thank you so much, Cathy.

  2. Laurie, this is beautiful and he is watching over you and laughing and smiling! I lost my Dad when I was in my 40’s and miss him every day. He was a hard worker and loved his family.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thank you, Renee. I want to believe my Dad is out there somewhere, close by and out of his suffering.

  3. I’ve lost my father too. I too had a wonderful father. Father’s Day is bittersweet for me each year. It gives me the chance to think about his impact on my life and honor him in some small way. Lovely rememberances.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thank you so much, Rosemond. This is my first Father’s Day without my Dad. I’m sorry for your loss, too.

  4. A good father gives so much to their children, and a bad father can take so much. Thankfully, I, too, was blessed with an amazing man in my life. The thought of losing him is terrifying. I know it will happen someday, but I’ll never be ready for it. Thank you for sharing.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thank you, MaryBeth. I believe one of our first tests of luck in life are our fathers. Sounds like we were both blessed to have a great one.

  5. My Dad was my best friend. I write about him all the time! He, too, went home last year. I know he’s watching down on me, sometimes shaking his head and saying, “Louie, Louie, Louie!” I miss him every day.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thanks so much for reading, Diane. Its such a gift to have a wonderful father. They’re never far from our hearts.

  6. Great post.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thanks for reading, Shareen.

  7. So true. I’m sorry for your loss. I lost my father when I was 15 and I still miss him every single day. After growing up and seeing more than the sheltered life I had left I realized how truly lucky I was growing up.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Rena, I can’t imagine losing my Dad at such a tender age. I’m sorry for your loss as well. Somehow he’s still there, looking out for you. Thanks so much for reading.

  8. What a great post, Laurie. You were very fortunate!

      • Laurie Stone

      • 8 years ago

      Thanks so much, Stacy. I agree, I was fortunate.

  9. Reading this makes me cry. I miss my father, too.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Jennifer, Thank you. I can’t believe it’s almost two years ago my father passed. It doesn’t seem possible.

  10. Loved this. Thanks so much for sharing.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Nicole, Thank you for reading.

  11. While my father was not ideal, I never doubted that he loved me and would do anything to protect or help me that he could. Mine has been gone for 10 years this year, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. On a side note, in a bit of delightful coincidence, you wrote this post on my father’s birthday (June 16). 🙂

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Sharon, I know many people who have/had complicated relationships with their fathers. I seem to be in the minority, having had an easy time with mine. I’m sorry for your loss ten years ago. Its been almost two years since my Dad passed and I still can’t believe he’s gone. And I agree…cool coincidence about your Dad’s birthday!

  12. This is lovely. I miss my Dad, too, he was wonderful growing up. He’s still with us but with late stage dementia, so it’s a very long goodbye.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Valerie, Its so hard watching a parent go, especially when its a protracted illness. Dementia seems especially hard to watch. I’m sorry.

    • Pat

    • 7 years ago

    Beautiful tribute to a loving father. So sorry for your loss, but so glad for your gift of words so that you were able to capture the essence of such a good man.

      • Laurie Stone

      • 7 years ago

      Pat, Thank you so much!

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