Monday, January 4, 2010

xox

I've spent a while trying to write about my father. The eulogy at his memorial service was strange. It was as if the minister was speaking about a man I never knew, a man I never would know.

My relationship with my dad was always troubled. We were so different once I grew to young adulthood, and I can hardly remember a time we weren't clashing over some subject. He told me once that having children was the worst mistake he ever made. He played golf rather than attending my wedding. He kicked me out of the house on my 16th birthday. He took $600 from me and claimed the bank stole it. He introduced me to drugs. He bought guitars rather than food for his children. He never paid child support unless the state garnished his wages. I spent a third of my life not talking to him.

But I still loved him. I still love him. With all of my heart. He was my father, and while he wasn't perfect, I am a part of him. He is a part of me.

I remember when I was a child and he would tuck me in bed, he would rub his beard stubble on my face and tickle me. I would squirm and scream, and he would tell me he loved me. He took me fishing and he would always put my worm on the hook. I loved his laugh. It was deep and full of humor. He told terrible jokes with the worst punch lines. I'll never look at a lawn chair without hearing his voice, "What do you call an Irish lawn chair? PATI O' FURNITURE!"

I remember when I was 14 and having a difficult time at my mom's, he gave me a place to live. He told me then that he would always be there for me when I needed him. I believed that.

My father taught me to love myself, and to accept and cling to the differences that made me who I am. He told me that there was never a reason to feel inferior to another person. I was as worthy of a person's respect as they were of mine. He taught me to challenge the norm, and to fight for what I believe.

I am who I am in large part of my father. Although our relationship was always tumultuous, I wouldn't have given up a second of it.

I love you dad, and I wish I could have said that while you were still here.