Yesterday morning, around 5:30 am, my brother called me to tell me that our step-father had died. Although it was sudden, it wasn’t completely unexpected; he wasn’t a healthy man and didn’t take good care of himself. He was a little hard-headed like that…
I would like to think that some of my better traits I learned from him. He was a stoic quiet man who could find off-color humor in any situation, but had a genuine kindness to him and towards his fellow man. He was strong in the face of adversity; I never knew him to panic or worry much; if he did, he hid it from sight and wouldn’t let anyone else know it. He was slow to anger, but stood his ground when needed; wasn’t a fighter, but wasn’t afraid to fight.
I don’t think he knew exactly what to make of me as his son. He was mechanically inclined, loved reading spy novels and books about the cold war, and loved playing rock guitar. He wasn’t too political or religious and felt he wasn’t going to worry about something he couldn’t change; he was pragmatic in that way. He was a very masculine, without being overly proud.
He was a man in ways that seemed at odds with my interests and my inclinations. I liked poetry, spirituality, and had very little interest in mechanics or cars. I had tried learning guitar, but couldn’t get past the pain of holding metal strings to the fret board. I wasn’t into sports and didn’t have female conquests – but he never once criticized me for being who I was.
He was the only father I ever knew… And even though he didn’t have to be that father, he chose to be there for me, my brother, and my mother through some of the hardest times. Until now, I haven’t given myself the chance to really mourn his passing – I haven’t cried. I think he’s with me – urging me to keep strong for my mother and younger brother, both of whom depended on him financially. I now have to be the strong one for my family – make the tough decisions and do the jobs that no one else can do. As luck would have it, I think I picked up just the traits that I needed to fill that role… from him.
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I never know what to say at times like this. It all sounds so shallow and pithy. I type and erase and type and erase …
I’m so sorry for your loss. And I am. I really feel for and with you. Death sucks and I really wish we didn’t have to deal with it.
Hugs for you and your family.
kay
Hello Kay…
Don’t worry about how you sound, hon. It isn’t the words that matter anyway. Thank you for your condolences. The funeral is today – it’s likely I’ll be writing about that as well.
Death is just another part of life. I doubt life would have much meaning if it wasn’t for death. The hard part is living – and living well. For that, we have each other, so it’s not so bad.
Namaste.
I’m kinda like Kay in that I never know what to except, I’m sorry. Really sorry to hear of your loss John.
Hey Julian,
Thank you for your condolences… It may not seem like a lot over this impersonal contraption we call the interwebs, but it means quite a bit to me.
Namaste.