Happy Father's Day, Fathers...

I can't be with my father today, and even if I was with him, most likely he wouldn't know me.  He's suffering from age-related memory loss, and only occasionally recognizes even close family members.

But my memory is still working well, and today I'm remembering some of the many trips he and I took together.  Our destination was always some beautiful part of the U.S.: Mt. Lassen National Park, the Big Sur coastline, the San Juan Mountains of Colorado, Hawai'i, etc.  Searching for interesting and beautiful plants and wildflowers was always part of the plan.  Those trips, usually a week or two long, were nonstop father/son talkathons.  Subjects ranged all over the map, but the ones that I found most interesting were recollections of his WWII experiences, the history of our family, and his perceptions of how the world worked (very different than mine!). 

I cherish those trips, and I am oh so grateful that I was able to find the time and money to take them while he still could.  Through them, I was able to spend many weeks of quality time with my dad while we were both adults, even though we live over 2,000 miles apart.  I've made many bad choices in my life, but the choice to make those trips wasn't one of them...

I know you can't read this, dad, nor would it make sense to you even if you could.  But “Happy Father's Day!” anyway.  Your son is thinking of you today...

Father's Day...

Pondering Father's Day, and so many thoughts and memories that provokes.  My father is 3,000 miles away today, in Virginia where he and my mom now live.  The accompaniments of old age are upon him – he's hard of hearing (making telephone calls difficult), his vision is weak, he can no longer walk very far, and anything other than local travel is more than he can handle.  But though he's very different than when he was younger, he's still my father – and I wish I could be with him today, on this his day.  Or any other day, for that matter...

The photo at right is one I took five years ago, in July 2005 when he and I were on one of our many trips together.  On this trip we were in the San Juan mountains of south-central Colorado.  At that time he could still walk a mile or so without too much trouble, even at the high altitudes we visited.  We four-wheeled all over those mountains in our trusty 1996 Toyota LandCruiser – a vehicle we still own, and still use for such trips.  Now that my father can no longer make such trips with me, the memories of them are all the more precious...

Happy Father's Day, dad!  I hope your memories are as happy, and as comforting, as mine...

Happy Father's Day!

My father still walks this earth – a little more slowly than he used to, but still going. He's no stranger to challenges, having lived through the Great Depression, been a soldier in World War II, married for over 50 years, helped to raise a family of four children, and weathered some very tough times in his career. Through all of it that I can bear witness to, he's been steadfast, optimistic, and reliable – and full of imaginative stories, nearly always cheerful, blessed with a wonderful sense of humor, curious (and respectful of curiousity), and unreasonably encouraging to his kids.

I love him more than I can find the words to say...

My father lives some 2,500 miles away from me, so I don't get to see him as often as I'd like to. For the past few years he's been coming out to California each summer, so that he and I can take a two or three week trip together. We've had some memorable hiking and four-wheeling trips in search of wildflowers, a passion that he and I share. Several of these trips I've blogged about (to the San Juan Mountains, Big Sur, and Mt. Lassen). We'd planned a trip this year, but some medical treatments he's taking forced us to postpone it. We're hoping that either this fall or next summer he'll be well enough to take another one...

Meanwhile, today is Father's Day – a day for all children to honor and cherish their dad. In my dad's honor this year, here's one of my favorite poems about fathers:

Only A Dad

Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame
To show how well he has played the game;
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come and to hear his voice.

Only a dad with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd,
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad but he gives his all,
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing with courage stern and grim
The deeds that his father did for him.
This is the line that for him I pen:
Only a dad, but the best of men.

Edgar Guest, 1916

One of the best of men, indeed. Happy Father's Day, dad!