truvy
Thursday, June 06, 2002
Happy Father's Day
My father died 14 years and 6 days ago, a few days before I was to graduate from high school. I hate the responses that brings from some people - back then and even now. My least favorite is "Were you close to him?" He was my father. I loved him, hated him, was proud of him, horribly ashamed of him, wanted to grow up to be nothing like him, and secretly (even a secret to myself) wanted to be at least something like him.
My father was a businessman. An old friend of mine was just crazy about my Dad, and especially his sales skills - he claimed my Dad could sell sand to the beach (or something colorful like that - probably something less PC if I recall correctly). For me, I saw how he struggled - how he disliked working for others and decided to go into business for himself. This made him happier, but with that came an enormous burden of having to succeed - in the simplest terms of having to provide for his family. I wanted NO part of it. I stayed as far away from anything "business" related as possible in college - more concerned with thinking and having a "professional" career - which really if I get down to it meant not having to sell anything to anyone - not having to rely upon the whim of the customer, the whimsy and fickleness of the marketplace for my success or failure.
Now, older, I see more clearly how almost every profession, law, education, medicine, etc. (all those non-sales things) really does involved the marketplace - you have customers/clients - those who you must please in order to retain your job. I chaff at the notion sometimes, but ultimately I've learned to embrace it.
Both my sister and my mother have often said how much of my Dad is in me - and the other day, for the first time, I looked in the mirror and saw at least some of the physical resemblance. As mundane as it might be, I've been using a bit of gel in my hair, and pulling it up a bit in the front - rather than spiky, it goes all curly in this one patch - and I realized, looking in that mirror, that's exactly how my Dad's hair used to look - receding on the sides and curly in the front part.
And I smiled, happy to be at least part of the man that he was.
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