My Father's Influence

I am actually writing parts of this post from the airplane on my way home from Pittsburgh. My siblings and I are in the process of clearing out the family house. This is an emotional, enormous and  daunting process that will take upward of a year, at least. (If anyone wants to buy a magical house in Squirrel Hill mid 2019, reach out to me.) This 100 year old house is palpably imprinted with the energies of everyone who ever lived there. It is the house of requirements, right out of a Harry Potter novel. The kids would find the exact thing they needed for a school project, the right dose of allergy medication, an eclectic book on a subject that they were interested in. This visit, my pants were too loose (hooray!),  I opened up a closet, and there was the perfect belt. My dad would have turned 91 on June 21st. His birthday was always the week of Father's Day; some years they fell on the same day. We lost him 10 & 1/2 years ago. Time plays tricks and it feels impossible that it was so long ago. I have shared a good bit about my mother and it is time give a shout out to my father. I had planned to write a post about my dad this week, and since we had the week together the family recalled some classic stories like the time dad tried to calculate the width of a canyon based on how long it took for a sound to echo. In the same vein no one in the family can help but to think of dad during a thunderstorm.  We all find ourselves calculating how far the lightning strike is by counting the seconds between the boom and the flash. The lock for my high school locker was Kr Cr Ar -- If anyone needs help figuring  out the code that would be 36 Krypton  24 Chromium 18 Argon. My dad had us remember combinations based on the periodic table. Yep, he was a nerdy scientist. This had its pros and its cons. The first time my poor husband Sandy visited my house (at the vulnerable age of 18) my dad handed Sandy a Scientific American magazine and asked about alternative approaches for addressing the problem posed in the article. Deer in the headlights would probably be an accurate description of Sandy in that moment. My mom rescued him “Robert, leave him alone.” Dad had so many varied interests. He loved music and played his violin until his last days. Certain pieces of music bring him right to me. He loved animals. When he was older, he used to sit on the porch and all the neighborhood dogs and cats would stop by to hang with him. He was curious about everything and brilliant until Alzheimer’s dimmed his mind. If anyone had a question, before the days of google, the obvious choice was to “ask Grandpa.” He loved to do things. When I was growing up he was a very involved dad. We were always on the go to fairs, concerts, bowling or sporting events (Go Steelers, Pirates and Penguins); I don’t remember him saying no. He was recycling and composting long before it was fashionable. My dad didn’t tell jokes, but he was the universal recipient and appreciated any humor that was directed his way with a broad grin and a big laugh. One of the traits that  I got from him in spades and am most grateful for was his problem solving ability. If you come to me just to ketch and vent, I have learned to tell folks that they need to warn me in advance and I will try to simply listen. Without that caveat, I go right into problem solving mode. Identify the issue  (sometimes this is the most challenging aspect) Who owns the problem What are some solutions. Learning that not everyone wants to have someone “fix” them,  is something that I continue to work on. This would have been a foreign concept to my father. If he saw something that could use some correction or fine tuning, he would dive right in. A man limping? Let's evaluate the physics of his gait. An off key singer (his favorite)? He invented a method to teach anyone to sing. In some cases this might be total strangers. His kids and grandchildren coined the verb “to Grandpa someone” which translated as constructive criticism, or instruction that was more than likely unasked for. He was pretty sure that anyone could learn anything, and he was ready and eager to teach. My dad had a remarkably even temperament. It is possible that he never once raised his voice to me. I would like to think that this was mutual, but every time he tried to teach me the error of my bowling technique, I would lose control of my temper ( I should have listened, I am a terrible bowler.) It was no fun being mad at him. He would simply get sad and say something along the lines of “I am going into the backyard to eat worms.” He was a family man who loved his wife, children and grandchildren with all his heart and we knew it. He started with girls only, three daughters, followed by five granddaughters. The switch flipped. The next two grandchildren were boys, followed by two great grandsons, who he never got to meet but would have been so proud of. We are quite the force of nature when we all get together. My daughter Lauren is getting married in August, and oh my goodness would my dad have been over the moon at the man she chose. Adam would have been the one to say “tell me more about how you can measure a canyon by the echo." They would have loved each other. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I truly believe that dad will be at that wedding, watching from somewhere and beaming.