Exactly twenty years ago this past weekend, my dad died. Sorry, that’s easily the least cheerful way to begin a blog post, but I’ve found myself thinking about dad a lot lately. Dad was diagnosed in April 1989 with lung cancer and it quickly became evident that there was nothing the doctors could do. He died, peacefully at home, on September 19, 1989 surrounded by family. I held his hand when he died. Everything for several years after that is a bit of a blur for me. When I started paying attention again, there was this new thing called “The Internet.” 
My dad was an incredible man who always had an easy smile and an positive outlook. Even after my sister Karla died of leukemia in 1974, he never became an angry or bitter man. Dad and I got along great…even when we didn’t. (Anyone who has ever raised a teenager will know what I mean.) My only regret is that I never got to know dad as a friend as I progressed into my 20s and 30s. There were times I could have really used his advice.
Shortly before he died, dad told about something that mad him feel good. This surprised me since the chemotherapy pretty much made him feel quite the polar opposite of “good.” He knew he wasn’t going to make it, but he told me that it made him feel good to know that in the early part of the 21st century, there would be a man who kinda looked him and kinda sounded like him. He knew that man would work his ass off to be the kind of husband and father that he always tried to be. That was a hell of a thing for my 18 year-old brain to process, but I never forgot that conversation.
The reason I bring this up is that 2009 also saw some some unexpected challenges in my family. Patty had a miscarriage earlier this summer. Unfortunately, there were complications that took several months to work out. Patty wrote a nice post over at her own blog. During the difficulties, Patty needed my help. At first I wondered what I could do. Let’s face it, when people are facing adversity, they don’t immediately start looking for a keyboard player who watched too much TV as a kid. Then I considered how dad would have handled a similar situation and the answer became clear: I would do everything. Everything I could, plus a few things I couldn’t. I would drop whatever I was doing to be the kind of husband…the kind of person my dad would have been proud of. Patty is doing great now, and I’m just glad I could be there when she needed me.
Nice to know the old man can still teach me some things 20 years later. Thanks, Dad.
