A second fatherless father's day

Today on my Sunday run with Sid, we decided to dedicate our efforts to our departed dads. Sid has had many fathers days without his dad, who died when Sid was 13. Sid is now 83, the same age my dad would have been had he not died two years ago. This is only my second father's day without my dad. I think it was easier than the first one.

As we ran but mostly walked in the quiet, warm morning, we told stories about our dads - not always the ones they would be happy to hear us telling. Sid's dad's name was Jack (like my dog). Apparently Jack was a cranky, Archie Bunker type guy who was very sexist. Once he yelled at some poor woman who ran into the back of his car. "No one deserved that" Sid told me. "I was just a little kid and even I knew that he should not have yelled at that poor lady that way".

The funniest story Sid told about Jack was that he came home from a party drunk one night. Sid shared a bedroom with his parents because there were only two bedrooms and his two older sisters had to have the other one. His dad staggered into bed, and after a minute, he said to Sid's mom "Damn, Old woman! Next time the bed comes around, grab it!" I guess he had a bad case of the spins. Sid's dad was a hard worker who was a lift engineer in the mines of Montana and some form of cancer took him when Sid was just a kid. He also remembers his dad yelling at his mom to give Sid more food because he was so skinny. Sid says his dad probably met my dad up there and said something like "Damn not another Finlander". I guess the Finns in Montana were not thought of highly by Sid's dad.

I talked about funny things I remembered about my dad. He had some funny sayings like "You make my laughs come in bunches" and "Yet even" as in "Is it snowing?" "Yet, even". He "put the coffee going" and boiled porkchops on Sunday till they were so tender that they practically fell apart. He loved "new potatoes" and old pickup trucks. In his last years, he was very cranky, shocking us with his outbursts of anger and foul words. Looking back on it now, I can see he was angry at losing all that he used to easily be able to do. Once he forgot his false teeth in the bathroom and came out and sat down. When he realized he didn't have his teeth, he yelled "Damn *&^%&() sucking teeth" and went down the hall with his walker, swearing as he went. He was a tough lumberjack and did things his way - including ignoring a huge cancer on his ear, an even bigger melanoma on his chest and gangrene on his toes. But when he was going in for what was to be his final hospitalization, he called many of his older friends to say goodbye. I didn't find this out till his funeral.

My dad usually wanted a blue t-shirt for father's day and a long sleeve long one for his birthday. He was happy just to get a check or some candy or even a card. One of the things I learned from him was that "things" weren't important. I learned to like the woods, stray dogs, and old people. Like Sid's dad, my dad wasn't always very nice to my mom. In fact, he was rarely nice to her. She says the only time he ever bought her a present was on their first Christmas together - red plaid pants and a blouse that his ex-girlfriend helped him pick out. But still, and even after he had an affair with her best friend, she stuck with him and cared for him till he died. She forgave all his lies - sort of. She never got the one thing she wanted most - to feel like she was important to him. Whenever I hear that song by Dolly Parton with lyrics that say "Momma never wanted the finer things in life. If she did she never did say so to daddy" I think of my mom. She became very angry with him - anger to cover up her hurt and resentment I think. She misses him and I think she even misses their fights. Her favorite words to him, spoken with emphasis (and no hint of affection) were "Jeeeeesus KERIST, RAY!!!!

Running with Sid though, I think of what it would have been like to go for a run with my dad. I wonder if Sid's own kids realize how lucky they are to have a dad who is active at 83 and fun to be around. I would have loved to go for a run with my dad or even a walk. Like most kids, I probably had opportunities to take walks with him that I turned down because I had better things to do. I think he forgave me though. He was a good dad despite his humanness. I think it is our humanness that we try to overcome our entire lives and when we cannot, we hurt the people who love us the most. Because of that love, and despite our humanness, we are lucky to often be forgiven. We shouldn't take that for granted though because people can't always forget.

Me and Sid probably look like an unlikely running team to our dead fathers, if they can see us from wherever they are. I enjoy listening to his stories even though many of them are reruns - but so are mine. I know that I should enjoy my Sundays with him because I may not always have them. Maybe it makes up for the time I never spent with my own dad.