Father's Day-Part 2

I had the unique and incredible opportunity to speak with 5 individuals about their dad and the impact these men had on their lives. While all of the people I spoke to had varying relationships with their fathers, each of them conveyed a fondness and reverence for the values that these men instilled into them. I asked each of them how their fathers shaped who they are as adults, as parents, and as humans, looking to see where the ripples would potentially fall for my own children.

It was upon completion of these interviews, that I knew my kids will carry their father him with them forever. From my son inheriting his sense of humor and specific taste in music (I roll my eyes with secret nostalgia when Weird Al Yankovic comes blasting from my son’s bedroom), to my daughter looking like his baby pictures and having his laugh… They will forge their own relationship with his essence as they grow and discover themselves. I wept after each conversation, finding healing and hope through these stories.

These men were all impactful and important pieces of the lives they touched, and it was in this lesson that I found comfort.

 

Terry:

Eric’s favorite picture of his dad, Terry. His mother had this one on her bedside table

I spoke with Eric, a recent business connection who shared with me that he had lost his father at the age of 11, the same age my son was. Terry was a creative soul by the sounds of it, a photographer by trade but also incredibly talented in other mediums. He was very active in the school, participating in various events and had such an impactful presence that the school rallied behind the family in support after his passing. Eric fondly remembers spending Saturdays with his dad. Growing up in the city made for unique adventures, but Saturdays relaxing sticks out vividly. Terry marched to the beat of his own drum, living life by the philosophy “make the most of it”.  Terry helped shape the type pf parent and father Eric is by always being approachable, but keeping him “on the straight and narrow”, noting that he feels his father exemplified what a father is “suppose to be”. Eric is impacted so much so, that he hears his father laughing at him while parenting his own son!

As a military man, Terry was unfortunately exposed to Agent Orange during Vietnam, which ultimately caused the liver cancer that took his life.

A lesson I learned from Eric’s story was an understanding of grief from my son’s point of view. Eric didn’t really grapple with grief until much later, high school specifically and is reflective about the idea of experiencing depression. While Eric had other male figures such as uncles stepping in to ensure his wellbeing, Eric had to find his own connection to his dad. This proved to be initially difficult as he didn’t have many photos of his father, since Terry was usually the one behind the lens. It’s not grief in the same sense as his mother experienced it, but moreover a “jealousy” for what others have. Sometimes the realization that his dad won’t get to meet his children resonates with difficulty. He finds comfort in the physical similarities that Terry & his own son share, noting many people approach his son saying, “you MUST be related to Terry!” which always bolsters a good chuckle.

 

Tom:

Tom Merrigan

Kathy was brought to me through a mutual connection, my own mother grew up with her. Kathy’s father Tom was a man of many talents. He valued education, so much so, he put off his own to ensure his children completed their degrees before he went on to get a law degree at the age of 55! Prior to being a successful lawyer later in life, Tom worked as a photographic reporter for the local newspaper. Kathy notes how hardworking her father was, but also how incredibly loving and selfless he was. “If he had nothing, he’d give you half” she says, reminiscing about the type of humanitarian and good Samaritan Tom was. As a lawyer, if someone couldn’t pay, he’d offer a barter, allowing someone to do odd jobs or paint for him in exchange. He just wanted to help people. Kathy tells me of the type of father he was when she was a child, as 1 of 8 kids, she never felt lost in the mix. Tom was known as the “hugger” and it is his over arcing loving nature that ultimately shaped how she parented her own kids.

Tom lived a very full life, to the age of 86. He suffered from primary progressive aphasia, which affects various systems as it’s rooted in the frontal lobe of the brain. He was vibrant and cognitive over the 4 years from diagnosis to his passing.

Tom was an inspiration to many and lived his life by the philosophy “everyone has a story to tell, what’s yours?”. He was indeed quite the story teller, writing books of his own, which Kathy was kind enough to let me read her copy of “Sugarloaf Street” a memoir about his grandmother. Tom was even such an integral part to the local community, that they named a street after him!

A lesson I learned from Kathy’s story was how to find the good. It is so easy, especially in today’s day and age to get caught up in all the negativity, but Kathy spoke so brightly and positively about all that she had been through. This woman had endured immense loss and still was able to share the love and kindness her father brought to the world. Through her positive attitude, his legacy of love lives on.

 

Arthur:

Eve is a local makeup artist who I found when I did anniversary photos a few years ago. She shared with me the recent loss of her father Arthur. Having only lost her dad about a year ago, the emotions ran deep during our chat, I could feel the love she held for him. Eve didn’t always have the smoothest relationship with her dad, citing it to be “tumultuous” at times. As a teen, who held different religious and social views, Eve felt herself to be more of the black sheep within her family and struggled to feel a bond with her dad. She notes that “I realize now, we probably butted heads because we were actually very similar, we both could be very stubborn”. Time and distance allowed for Eve to find herself as an adult and ultimately, she and Arthur were able to have a positive relationship after she had kids of her own. Arthur was a great grandpa, and valued his relationship with his grand kids very much.

Arthur passed away from lung cancer at the age of 77, as a result of smoking.

Eve and Arthur sharing a good laugh

After losing Arthur, Eve says that she has become more patient as a parent herself, noting that she is far calmer and practices more of a “gentle” approach as she realizes the significance of the role her dad held for her. She also recognizes a shift in her own personality, as she has acquired the extrovert nature her father possessed. “He would talk to anybody, carry on a conversation like he knew them...” she says with a fondness, also noting their physical similarities that tie her to her dad.

Arthur lived his life by the philosophy, “forgive, forget, and move on”, which Eve is finding hard to do saying, “I was too hard on him”. We talked about how having the relationship they did was a gift in its own way, that this particular path led her to her growth as a parent, growth with her religion, and growth as a human.  The learning I had with Eve’s story is the reminder that grief is fluid… She stated that she was just recently moving past a place of pure sadness and I’m reminded of my own journey with grief and how it is not linear.

 

Stanley:

“June is a hard month all in all now, it has both his birthday and Father’s Day” Melissa tells me. I resonated with that personally and feel similar about November. Melissa is a former peer of mine, during my retail management days and lost her dad 3 short years ago. We both feel that it sometimes feels as if it’s been forever since their passing, but also as if it were just yesterday, they were here.

Melissa and her dad, Stanley

Stanley lived a very full life, was very physically active, until covid prevented much social activity which Melissa believes to be a large contributor to his decline. Stanley passed at the age of 87 officially due to a heart attack.

Melissa and her dad didn’t have a close relationship when she was young, He worked as a long-haul truck driver and wasn’t home much during her growing up. Her parents divorced when she was a teen and she lost contact with Stanley for several years and didn’t really foster a relationship with him until in her 20’s. It was at that point that he became her “priority parent”, meaning she really went into every visit with him as if it might be her last; they both were actively making up for lost time. It was through this commitment to one another that they found a very strong connection. Melissa shares her favorite memory of Stanley being how he surprised her when she ran a marathon. “I didn’t expect to see him, and I had mentally just kind of hit a wall. Then I round this corner and there’s my dad! He was cheering and just so proud. Like he really admired how much hard work went into me doing this. Then after, he made me wear my medal everywhere and told everyone that his daughter had just run a marathon. He was the biggest cheerleader”.  

My biggest take away from learning about Stanley was how to sit with the sadness.  While she’s open about her experience with grief counseling, Melissa shares that for her it was less about processing the loss and more about learning to set boundaries. It reminded me that it’s OK to say no; no to food, no to help, no to an invitation… you are in the driver seat in terms of your own grief. Stanley Lived his life by the motto “Don’t be a people pleaser”, this applied not only to his life, but in regards to his death as well.

 

Jeff:

Tracey, a former colleague, shares with me the loving relationship she shared with her dad Jeff. Tracey describes herself as a “handful” when she was younger, citing the nickname “too far Tracey”, but notes that her father always managed to see through those challenging moments and lead with love and compassion.

Tracey’s parents were married incredibly young,  both skipping senior year so they could get married. Shortly after, Tracey was born, followed by her younger sister. Jeff was an active Dad, working lots, but always made time for the girls to  go to dance lessons. He was also an avid reader, something Tracey inherited from him, amassing a literal personal library in his home. Jeff parented through compassion, and often prioritized physical and mental well being over moments that may have been often used as lessons by other parents.

Tracey (Right, with her dad, Jeff, and sister at her wedding.

Jeff was fairly young when he passed, He had several medical issues, but complications from emphysema, as well as a long term battle with tuberculous that  resulted in his death at the age of 66. Prior to his passing, Jeff had a significant fall, breaking his hip & shoulder which resulted in surgery. Doctors almost didn’t perform the surgery given how weak he was. He had a collapsed lung, and didn’t tell anyone, which Tracey laughed at as she told me, remarking how “typical” it was for him.

Jeff was the meticulous type, having planned and prepaid for his impending death prior to the surgery to correct his broken hip & shoulder. It wasn’t until his actual passing that they found he had also written letters to his 4 granddaughters, providing wisdom, words of love, and funds for upcoming big life events (proms, weddings, school, etc).  He went as far to mention in great detail which store he’d take the girls to when it came time to buy prom dresses, reminiscing on a store back home in Cincinnati.

Jeff lived his life by the motto “take no shit, but help where you can”, which Tracey attributes her leadership style to. She also comments on how she feels she carries much of his parenting style forward with her own daughter. My biggest learning from my conversation with Tracey is the reminder to be out loud with your grief. As uncomfortable as it may be, its important for the world to see the reality of loss. Tracey notes “Death gave me respect and recognition for other people’s strong suits”, noting that by being transparent with her struggles as a leader, it brought her team together and fostered more trust and compassion.

 

Each of these stories is unique, and each bereaved had a tremendously different experience with loss. Over arcing, what we can see and learn is that death cannot escape us, and how we live our lives ultimately shapes those around us. We can learn something by hearing the stories of these great men, and we can reflect on our own relationships with the important men in our own lives. Thank you to each of the participants in this endeavor for allowing me to share their story.

Kate MollisonComment