This is a portrait of my father at the helm of his 42′ Japanese Yawl, the ‘Morning Star’. Today would have been his 100th birthday. This is remarkable because my father left this earth shortly after his 62nd birthday, and this, to me, means that I have walked on this earth longer without him than I did with him. That’s powerful.
My dad died young, too young – baby Sister Golden Hair was still a teenager which is very sad – no Bubba to walk her down the aisle. We made do, however, older brother assuming the role. But no one could really fill his shoes, he had big shoes and an immense personality to match; he had hundreds of friends and a zest for life. I am happy he didn’t put things off in his lifetime, his life went by so quickly. Yes, his departure left a huge hole in our little family.
My dad was responsible for many traits that I possess. He instilled in me a work ethic than is commendable – most who know me will testify that I will work doggedly towards a goal. He also taught me about expectations and how they can propel you, hence him gifting a new Steinway piano for my 8th birthday. My dad always held me to a higher standard, and where that seemed at times to be unfair when I was adolescent, it formulated in me a desire to grow beyond standard measures and seek more perfection in life. Perhaps he knew he would not be around forever, perhaps the high bar he set for me was meant to guide me beyond the days he would have to dedicate to the effort.
Even sitting at his bedside the day before he died, he was setting the bar. He was looking forward with me in mind and speaking of his reliance on me to accomplish what was leftover….”Remember to do this…”, he said…”Remember to do that – I am counting on you”. I remember each word and each tear-filled promise I made. I believe in my heart I have fulfilled them all. I think he would be proud of that result. I know he is still watching over us – the children he left behind.
I know this to be true – I was his Golden Child. Dad had assigned nick-names to the three of us – older brother was ‘Pud’ (which I guess was some derivation of Pudding); I was ‘Doobie” (which I guess was meant to conger a Do-Bee – as opposed to a Don’t-Bee); and baby sister was ‘Pooker’ (presumably because she was so damn cute, and still is) – regardless they all fit!
I do not, for one minute, take for granted that I am one of the lucky ones. I grew in a family home filled with plenty of love, encouragement and music. Thanks Dad, for setting that bar high! I did it — I did it all!