Always My Father’s Daughter

Dad in Uniform

Dad in uniform

No matter how old I am I will always be my father’s daughter. With Father’s Day looming I find myself thinking about him a lot. He passed away in March, 2011 at the age of 93. He lived a long life, and I’d like to believe it was a good life, but it was not without its challenges.

A child of the depression, he knew what it meant to go without. A hoped for baseball career was interrupted by World War II, resumed and then replaced with a career as a NYC police officer. He would tell stories about his baseball days but never with regret or sadness. He accepted what was and made the best of it.

He and my mother were married for almost 60 years when she passed away, but during those years they both knew what it meant to go without so their three children could have what they needed. My father was never the 9 to 5 father my friends had. His hours were erratic but he made time for us. And while he didn’t work in an office, and might have been somewhat immune to typical corporate politics, he could size up people immediately and more accurately than anyone I’ve ever met. He has always been my hero, my protector, and someone whose respect meant a lot to me.

In their later years Mom and Dad moved in with me. It was interesting to see our relationship shift as I took on more of a caretaker role. But somehow, no matter what, I always felt that as long as my father was here everything would be all right. I was recently laid off after 34 years with the same company and I often find myself wishing my father were still with me. Whether my pain was physical or emotional, his presence always made me feel better. I could use his presence now; if nothing else than to tell me everything will be alright. And I would believe him as I am always my father’s daughter.

Before I close this post I want to give the deepest thanks to my sister Susan, a graphic designer and artist by day and stellar sister 24/7. She helped me bring this Blog to life and tutored me in its set-up and execution. She deserves a gold star, but instead I will plug her websites for graphic design: and her paintings:  I hope you’ll take a look.

And to fathers everywhere, especially my brother Gerry, I wish you the happiest Father’s Day.