i remember pops... part deux

one of the things i really did think of (besides, oh shit...i'm gonna end up taking care of momsies, ain't i?) was who i was going to talk to about those milestones in life as i got to them. marriage...fatherhood...career...

i guess i naively believed that pops was going to be around for those things to pass on whatever wisdom he could. i mean, people lived to be like 80, right?

even when he first fell ill...i never considered the possibility that he wouldn't be around to see my eventual kid(s) so he could dote on them as he did all the other grandkiddlins. it wasn't until my sister pulled me aside that the possibility of him not being around hit me... and it wasn't for a few months after his passing that i really began to dread the idea of not having his presence in my life for those life changes...

look...
i know i didn't have a perfect dad, who does? but still, he was (and perhaps my grandfather as well in small ways) going to be my example for becoming a husband and a father. for good or bad? prolly yeah...

i found out pretty much...he would still fulfill that role.

i wrote my dad letters for several years after he passed. it was my way of grieving as well as staying connected with him.. it brought back memories both good and bad...but mostly, surprisingly good. not so much for things he told me but his actions. things he did on a daily basis.
better
it's from those memories that he was able to mentor me along even if he wasn't physically here to do so...and in some ways, perhaps better that he wasn't around. that way, the things that i found that were negative and didn't want to repeat, i didn't have to w/out him being around to look at me dis-approvingly. ha!

yeah...

i basically looked at who my dad was and what he did. how he treated me. how he treated my mom, my siblings, the grandpups. how he treated friends and work associates. who he was in everyday life...

i took the good and chose not to repeat or become the bad...

and that's who i decided i would be.

perfect? no. faulted? unabashedly faulted...

why? because i'm still figuring it all out. what husband and or father isn't? there's always more to learn, more to grow, more to change and modify and improvise adapt and even yes...overcome (thanks Gunny Highway).

my dad wasn't around, but he was the framework i used to build on who i wanted to become. in the years that have passed, i've found my dad has done and continues to do a pretty damn good job of bringing me along...despite myself...

so...

i remember my dad for the good... and the bad.

and that's how he will be...here, to help me thru those life stages.

works for me...

remembering pops... part one

this one is way overdue...

i was thinking of my dad this past father's day. it's been a nearly 18 years since he passed away the day after Christmas in 1992. it's strange because it hasn't really seemed that long ago and yet with each passing year it seems i remember less and less about who and how he was...or perhaps my memories are just now more selective?

i remember the day my dad was diagnosed and when i was told that he would have six months to live. i remember because my sister, Cecelia, who told me used the exact same words about 20 years before when my mom was admitted into the hospital with severe hyper-tension...

"Greg, this is serious..."

i remember seeing my dad in extreme discomfort...

i remember him barely able to communicate with me...

i remember the night i drove him to the emergency room. how i asked him before we left if i could pray for him, him nodding in acknowledgment...telling him that i loved him and asking if he understood that and him nodding back in acknowledgment...

i remember the drive to Stanford at 3AM, checking him into the ER...

i don't remember what i told the nurses and doctors...

i do remember the hardest decision i made up to that point in my life and how i still feel angry at myself and wish my dad could/would forgive me for...

when they wanted to check him in, he and i both knew it would be for the last time. he wanted to go home... it's all he would say in the demanding tone i so seldom heard from him growing up....

i knew i couldn't as it would have just meant a return trip, prolly in an ambulance and i had to tell my dad he had to stay to be taken cared of...

i lied (he knew it too) that the doctors there would/could help...

i remember my dad giving in knowing that was what was best for my mom...to not see him die slowly at home unable to help...

i remember the visits to the hospital and then the hospice...

i remember spending Christmas day with him there in 1992 and then going to the Lyon's in downtown San Leandro for my Christmas dinner...

i remember getting the call the next day that he had passed...

and then everything that followed was a bit of a blur...


life went on and it didn't for awhile and i wondered who would be my example now as a future husband and father. i wondered who'd i'd go to when i needed those questions answered.

as the years have passed, i found the answer was...my dad.

to be continued...