D is for Dad

My dad randomly pops into my head.  I guess it is normal for anyone that’s lost a loved one. My dad passed away two years ago. I still miss him a lot. I guess I will always miss him. I have two friends that lost their dads when they were teenagers. That was about 30 to 40 years ago; they still miss their dads even to this day.

 Last night when I was thinking about him it was about the things he did that drove me nuts. The last five years of his life he lived with me. He was not an easy person to live with. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my dad very much but he was difficult. He sort of reminds me of the character Arthur Spooner on the show King of Queens.

 Every day when I got home from work, my dad would pitch some business idea that we should start that’s a sure fire thing. And when my dad says “we”, that meant I will be doing everything. Whenever he would presented opportunities as a yes or no question, the answer was obviously supposed to be yes. The no choice was just decorative.  But of course I would say no and he would storm off mad and broods for a few days around the house until the next sure fire idea.

 My dad was also incredibly messy. After coming home from a long day of work, the mess I asked him to clean that morning would still be there. When he was a kid, he was spoiled by his mother and sisters. When he got married, he was spoiled by my mother. He never had to clean up after himself. He just couldn’t see the mess.

 In the last few years of his life, he started get what I call old people shake. His hands would just shake. This also started fights. I wasn’t mad he had old people shake. But I would ask him not to fill his coffee cup to the brim and walk to the sofa. He would leave a trail of coffee stains from the kitchen to the sofa twice a day; he always had a second cup in the afternoon. It’s a good thing the carpet was brown.

 

Then there were the fights about him cooking. I would beg him not to cook. Every time he did, there would be mystery stains everywhere. I mean everywhere. The floor, under the cabinets, the fridge that was clear across the kitchen, the ceiling; I mean everywhere. Whatever masterpiece he attempted to cook, was clearly the second attempt because there would be a burnt small when I entered the house.

 

Now when I think back, I would give anything to have him back. I would put up with a messy kitchen, a messy house, a house almost burnt down because he would always forget he left something on the stove. I miss his goofy dad jokes. I miss the way he cracked himself up after his bad jokes. His goofy laugh made you laugh more than any of his jokes.  He was fun, loving and kind; he was just a great dad.

 

I miss dad.