An ode to my father on father's day

Submitted by Patrick Grote on Sat, 06/18/2005 - 2:40pm.

Father's Day is tomorrow and I'm not a big supporter of the Hallmark holidays. Most of them are designed to sell greeting cards, but for mothers and fathers you cannot get enough time to appreciate them. This is especially true for my father, as he's had the largest impact on my life of anyone.

Many people claim their fathers have impacted their lives and they're right. Fathers play an important role in the family unit providing stability, guidance and love. My father provided those things, but went on to influence me in ways he probably doesn't know.

There are some things you should probably understand about my father to appreciate how he's impacted my life. He's an extremely giving, generous man to the point where people have taken advantage of him. He's not a handyman, preferring to use the Yellow Pages to fix something as opposed to the Time Life Home Reference.

He isn't the most athletic person in the world, but he did play tennis well enough to win corporate events. He was athletic enough that I was never able to truly beat him in races from the car to the grocery store entrance while growing up.

Dad's smart. Very smart. Book smart. He's still one of the top five smartest people I've ever known and with me counted, he's in the top four still.

He's not the most creative person in the world. Growing up I would notice this when it came to artistic pursuits. Namely, there were none.

Now that you have the overview of my father I need to show you how he's impacted my life.

I guess it all starts with the genetics. Smart, handsome and well coordinated. I have those traits and they've given me a leg up. Longevity is a genetic trait from him, which I hope pays off in 40 years.

Dad works hard. He worked hard while I was growing up and I have that work ethic as well. Dad never let something go unfinished if it needed to be done and he always did the task as well as he could regardless of its glory.

Dad was one of the first people in the nation to graduate from college with a degree in information management. It was called data processing back in the day, but it still counts. He moved from being a physics major into computers and never looked back. My love of computers was born from that as one of my first "dad at work" memories are the old IBM punch cards he used to bring home.

He was a clever planner. While growing up, we moved almost each year of my life from age 6 to 14. Dad was taking new, better jobs in the data processing industry to learn as much as he could. Why? Well, when we moved for the final time he hung his own shingle out and became a consultant. He owned his own company and the conversations we had about business led to me wanting to own my own business, which I did.

Family came first most of the time. Although he'd like to think we came first all the time, that's a statistical improbability. Dad probably put family first 99.9% of the time. Whether it was taking five flights during a blizzard across the Midwest to get home for a birthday or taking time off to watch his son play baseball, Dad was there.

The generous and giving thing is a predominate trait that has been passed onto me. The wife gets irritated when I tip 30%, but that's what Dad did. The wife gets upset when I offer to pay for things for extended family, but that's what Dad did. Dad did it for me, too. When we were first married I was 24 hours away from signing papers to go into the military. Dad offered me a job as a programmer so I could start my marriage with my wife. Generous and giving.

The talks I had with my dad about serious things were the most impacting words anyone ever said to me. There are two conversations I can remember very clearly having with him.

The first happened when I was in eighth grade and we were cleaning out the garage. It was a shoe box garage in the rented house we lived in. Basically, anything left over after the move was stuffed in there. Dad thought it'd be a good idea to clean it out. Remember, he's not a handyman kind of guy.

We worked hard to pull everything out and start cleaning. During our brooming we started to talk about women. I was 14 at the time and had just had an experience with a 24 year old woman that Dad put an end to. Nothing really occurred, but Dad made the right decision and stopped it. That was the topic.

As we talked Dad said something to me I'll never forget. He didn't say don't have sex. He didn't tell me wait for marriage. Ok, he may have, but the thing I remember him saying was that sex is addictive. He explained that the act of sex was akin to roller coaster. Once you do it, you want to do it again. His emphasis was on the fact once you do it you're going to want to do it again and unless you're in love, that leads to a loss of self respect. Very sage advice.

The second happened was when my son died. It was, as you can imagine, a horrific time for my wife and myself. David had been born premature and was progressing well. He was gaining weight, growing and it looked like he'd make it through without any major issues. One night we received a call from the hospital letting us know to come in. Six hours later my son was dead.

We were in the car a day or two after he died. Dad was driving and my wife and I were in the back seat. We came upon a biker on the side of the road that was being a jerk. I don't remember exactly what he was doing, but I think it involved hand gestures of the vulgar nature or he wouldn't get out of the way. Whatever the cause, my Dad pulled over and confronted him.

Now, my father has always been the peaceful one in the family. He didn't duck confrontation, but was smart enough to know that persuasion is the real weapon in a person's arsenal. Dad started yelling with the person and something in me snapped. Had Dad not stopped me I am sure the argument I was having with the man would have escalated into violence. Imagine that. My son dies and I end up in jail.

When we started to drive off my Dad apologized to me. He was crying. He knew that he should have set a better example, but I knew he was human. With the death of my son I was looking for someone to blame; a reason why this would happen. The biker was available and would have bore my rage.

Returning home we talked about what happened and that's when he laid out the second thing I'll always remember. With tears in his eyes my Dad told me sometimes no one is to blame for bad things. A simple statement so profound in its definition that one could consider it the pillar of life. Shit happens. That's what my Dad told me, but in a way that made an impact, a way that didn't sound cold, condescending or uncaring.

As my daughter makes her way through high school I wonder to myself if my actions are having an impact on her. Will she look back upon her childhood and remember my sage advice, my imparted wisdom? Will she weepily remember our conversation when the cat died in the backyard or when she found out she couldn't play soccer due to injury? Will she remember the tenor and meanings of our candid discussions about sex or drugs?

They are questions that all fathers ask themselves at one time or another, but in the generous, giving way, Dad has already answered this for me. Thanks, Dad.