Anniversaries...

I know tomorrow is a big anniversary and a lot of bloggers out there are sharing their memories of where they were and what they were doing. I've made the decision not to write about that memory. While the day was a changing day for the world, it honestly has not made a huge impact on my day to day decisions and experiences. I don't want to trivialize what others truly went through by talking about my day at work that day. Instead, that was a time of huge change for me in other ways and I'd like to look back on some of that.


Today is my dad's birthday. He would have been 61. My dad was a big man, 6'3 or so. But he wasn't just tall. He had huge broad shoulders, and square face and head that he had trouble finding hats to fit. His hands were big too. Not his fingers. They weren't especially long. The palms of his hands were tremendous though. My older brother has hands like that too. At the age of two, my brother, was able to palm a basketball.

So, with his large stature and huge grasp on the world what did my father choose as a career? Why a dentist of course. He grew up as the second son of a cotton farmer in southeastern Arizona. He felt through his life that growing up he had to play second fiddle to his older brother. So, my dad left farming and dreamt instead of being a dentist.

He met my mom while in undergrad school and they married and started their family right away. They both ended up attending Washington University in St. Louis. My father was in the dental program, my mom finished up her bachelor's in Physcial Therapy. By the time they moved and settled in Arizona they had three children, their degrees, and a lot of decisions to make.

I am child number four (out of a total nine). I was the first born here in Phoenix. Growing up was not always easy. My dad had trouble dealing with stress well and when he was out of sorts it effected all of us. Dad's mood determined everything in our family dynamics. There were times we were out right afraid and other times he would tickle us and we would happily jump on his lap for our next turn. He played fun games with frisbees, basketballs and footballs. Some of the games became running family jokes through the years. (If we would ask him to pass us something at the dinner table, often he would ask for a number...never say ten..one was always the best choice..). My dad drew cartoons and had an extensive collection of his puns and side angle looks at life. Sometime, I'll have to post one for you to see. So much was good growing up, and yet so much was not.

This dual role he played in my life and the lives of my siblings was a complicated and frustrating thing. One moment he would be happy and joking the next the guilt would begin about which college I wanted to attend. He never forgot something that would make a good grudge and he never seemed to forgive those times he was proven wrong. It was difficult to ever feel like I had truly gained his approval. It makes for a strange jumble of childhood memories. For the most part, I try to model after those good times. I have learned the parts of me that try to be overcontrolling and overbearing can be toned down. Somehow, over the years, I have been able to make peace with his choices and his emotional and mental limitations. He could not be who I needed him to be much of the time. Instead, I try to remember he was just who I needed some of the time and the counts for an awful lot.

As an adult, I had the opportunity for several years to help him out at his office a couple of days a week. In that time, I was able to hear him discuss my brothers and sisters. He would share with me his thoughts on their life choices. He would talk about things they were doing that made him happy. Even though he never said it, I knew he was proud of them. I know they never got to hear that from him. I never really did get to hear it from him. I was the one listening and he never was very direct with his pleasant thoughts about you. I learned through his discussion of the others how much he really did love each of us. Even if he had trouble telling me he was proud of me too.

Five years ago, the family got together to celebrate my dad's and my niece's birthday. (It is also today.) Five years ago, this coming Thanksgiving, we had Thanksgiving dinner at my house. My dad and I sat for some time just talking. He really did enjoy when the family would get together with all the grandkids. He was sweet and kind and wonderful to each of his grandchildren. There, he was able to just be happy. Five years ago this coming Christmas time, December 21st, my father died from a massive heart attack. He and I about a week before his death spent a Friday working together and seeing a few patients. That was the last time I spoke with him while he was still conscious. We hugged at parting and said 'I love you.' We didn't normally part with the the I love yous but I am so grateful that we did that day. I know the last words I know he heard from me were, 'I love you'.

Losing my father, changed me in very direct and lasting ways. I have strong faith in an afterlife and what it has brought to him. However, he was a difficult man in life. Smoothing and settling myself and my life since as taken self analysis and prayer. I know others in the family are still going through some of that smoothing and settling even after these five years. I pray for them in this process.

I really miss him sometimes. I miss his big bear hugs. I miss his smell. I miss his ability to find the best deals at garage sales and thrift shops. I miss talking sports with him. I miss knowing in any trouble I was stuck in, I could turn to him and he would very happily do all he could to help. My children, especially my oldest, miss him very much too.

As television bombards us with remembering five years ago, take a moment and remember some of the more basic, important things. Don't get caught up in the anger, frustration and agony that will be thrown our way through every medium possible this week. Hug your family members, tell them you love them. Send your sympathies to those truly and horribly effected by the tragedies and then turn it all off and be with those you love. That is the best possible way to experience such an anniversary.