November 8, 2016

Let me first start my saying Fuck 2016.

I say that with such force so you know that I really mean it.

Let me also say that today 61 years ago my mother and father were born at the same hospital on the same day in the same year. They formally met in high school and couldn't get away from each other since.

Today is their 61st birthday.

  It is also the first year my mother will celebrate her birthday alone.

When I spoke at my fathers funeral I knew I had to say something about him that would help people to "get" him. So I started with... 

My father was a great man

I would come home from one of my daily adventures and greet him with "greetings father figure" he'd reply: "greetings daughter of mine" we had our own language. 

My father was a linguist.
Growing up my father and I would cook together and speak the language of the food we were cooking. Spaghetti we'd speak Italian. ..Tacos we'd speak Spanish. Ramon noodles, we'd speak Chinese. I was four.

My father was a Renaissance man. He was interested in so many things. He took his interests and made them into hobbies, and then professions. From playing golf, learning everything he could about grass and turning that into a career, and having the lawn to envy in the neighborhood. He had a child with special needs and became an advocate for other children and adults. His passion for photography started when I was young...he took pictures of me every second  I was his model and all of a sudden he's buying cameras, lenses, teaching himself techniques and lighting designs, shooting events, weddings, and starting his own business.

My father was a teacher. My father didn't believe in boys do this and girls do that. He would always say to me...you need to know how to do this. I can ..and have changed brakes. ..pads and rotors. Tires...done plumbing, painted houses, operated heavy machinery. My father refused to allow me to be afraid of anything.

He was a fierce protector, he did not play when it came to his girls, his family, or his friends.  Notice I didn't say he was aggressive because he was a peace keeper and a mediator. And when protection was necessary he would show up..assess the situation  and handle business as necessary.

My father was a cowboy. ..no explanation. He was a cowboy.

My father was a Super Dad. When I played any sport...he became the coach. When my sister got involved in any of her many activities my father  became a familiar face at practices, performances, and if he wasn't on the board and in charge he was sitting right next to the person who was offering to help. Anything that we did...our Dad did too. 

When I became a Delta my father became dad to 107 women that I call my sister's many of which their dad's live out of state. When the call would go out for an emergency. ..my dad would get his tools, or call one of his buddies and tongue rescue he would go. Floods, tires, construction , security, you name it ..he knew how to fix it himself or he had a friend who could. My father rose to super hero status in those moments, and I was so proud that my dad could come and save the day.

I shared my Dad with so many people...but it never felt like sharing it always felt like he was making our family bigger. You knew he loved you once you got a nickname..and trust me..everyone got a nickname. My father was a fashion mogul. He would wear electric blue glasses, purple shoes, African robes, socks and sandals. The latest in fatigue cotour and not care what anyone thought.

My father was a competitor. Everything was a competition. EVERYTHING. We would cook together to see who could make the perfect pancake, the best nonstick omelet, the best tasting...well anything. One time he and Zina had gone to the florist and they had all these flowers that they were arranging for centerpieces. But first we had to compete to see whose looked the best. ..there was judging.

My father was a philosopher. He had several philosophies about the world. George Bush was a great president, we should all vote Republican, football is fake and wrestling is real. Spend long enough talking to him and he will convince you that his philosophies are right and you will question everything you've ever been taught.

     My father was a family man. He loved us so much. When you walk in our house, you feel the love. The love he had for my mother, my sister and I. Everyone had their own relationship with him and he would stop us from our busy lives and tell us how he felt. He was very proud of all of us and all of our accomplishments. I remember one of these times where he looked me in the eyes and said...do you see how much you've accomplished, 

how far you've come? You need to know how proud I am of you.

Life isn't always sunshine and butterflies. My father was ready for those times as well. How I will always remember him is standing just close enough so that you can feel his presence but far enough away so I could do it on my own. I was performing during an art showcase one night. I'm sure I had asked him not to come. Dad insisted on coming to support..I'm sure he had his camera. This particular art showcase I was doing a series of poems about a difficult time in my life. I got thru about half of it without crying...but as the tears began to fall and it became more difficult to talk. I looked up and my father was standing in the doorway staring at me..with kind of a smile. He wasn't going to rescue me. But he did want me to know that he was there and that I was safe. This was his thing with me...close enough to protect me ..but far away enough to watch me handle it on my own. In his final hours on this earth he stood on the porch just above me and asked who was walking with me. I told him it was Tish, he said hi..stood there for a second and then went back inside. He had that look that I know so well..and what i will remember most. I'm watching,  I'm protecting, but I know you got this.
In everything that he was he was teaching me important life lessons. He taught me a love for trying new things and experiencing different cultures . He planted a seed in me that having five careers is ok...enjoy them all. Find the one that suits you best..for now...and then learn about a new one...and become good at that. He taught me to laugh at everything..even when it's not funny. Laugh. He taught me how to be good to people. How to be caring and how everyone won't be caring like you, and how not to be taken advantage of. He taught me about family and what it means to be a family unit. He taught me to live each day true to myself, and not concern myself with what anyone else thought.  

As I would leave the house I would say, Farewell father figure, and he'd reply... "farewell daughter of mine"
My father was a great man.

Happy Birthday Father figure.