some things about my dad

I originally published this in October 2011. Today is 15 years since my dad died. 15 years! It feels like about three.

AlisonDadThis is me and my dad, Steve Green.

He would have turned 71 today, except that he won’t because he died in 2001.

Here are some things about my dad:

* He worked as a journalist for 40 years, covering Congress and national security, among other things. After he died, Senator Barbara Boxer gave a really nice tribute to him on the Senate floor. This is part of what she said: “I got to know Steve as he kept a watchful eye on Congress for the Copley News Service and the San Diego Union-Tribune. He had a quick wit, a keen intellect and a great nose for a story. Above all, he was scrupulously fair in his reporting. And he believed that as a journalist it was his role in life to help this country realize its tremendous potential … With a wink, Steve could puncture the biggest ego. He had the uncanny ability to be skeptical without being cynical. He cared for the people he covered without coddling them. He followed serious issues without losing his sense of humor.”

* Despite this noble portrait, he also gave people the finger at inappropriate times.

* And he once hit his Hebrew school teacher when she attempted to stop him from leaving a school picnic. And remained proud of it as an adult. Indignant, even.

* He never gave up trying to get me to read Treasure Island and David Copperfield.

* He once tried to get out of a dinner invitation with a Very Important Person a month in advance by telling the person that he had to walk his dog that night. He didn’t see why I thought this was a bad excuse.

* He was working at the Washington Post during the Watergate break-in, and his editor called him to cover the story. But he was out playing basketball, so the editor called Carl Bernstein instead. True story.

* He loved family gossip. Even at his sickest from cancer, he’d call me up and ask, “Do you have any good gossip?” He reveled in a good scandal. Here is something that one of his former editors, Barbara Cochran, said about him in his obituary:  “When he had a good story going, he would get this grin on his face — when he felt he had the goods.” This is the same grin he would get when he got ahold of some family gossip.

* In the last year before he died, he couldn’t eat much — literally couldn’t, because his esophagus had been removed and replaced with a shoddy replica that didn’t tolerate food well; he could only have liquids, and even soup was often too solid for him. Yet occasionally he would pull a chocolate bar of mysterious origins from his bathrobe pocket and eat it without any problems — I assume due to sheer force of will.

* He hated that I worked for nonprofits and thought I wouldn’t make enough money. He desperately wanted me to change career paths, but when anyone asked him about it, he’d bite his tongue and say, “We raised Alison to stand up for what she believes in.” Then he would secretly send me job ads he’d clipped from the paper and suggest that I go work in PR.

My dad died when I was 27, so he didn’t get to see me publish a book or buy a house or write this blog or do any of the other things I’m doing now. He would have really liked it.

Sometimes I’ll see a man who sort of looks like him from the back — always in grocery stores, for some reason — and I’ll let myself pretend it’s him for a minute. But it never is.

Posted in me

{ 124 comments… read them below }

  1. KayKay*

    This is beautiful. Thanks for sharing! Your dad sounds like he was hilarious.

  2. Dot Warner*

    Alison, this is so beautiful that I’m crying and I never even met your dad. You’re lucky to have had him, and I’m sure he’s very, very proud of you.

  3. Alanna*

    What a lovely thing to read. I lost my dad in 2012. I do the same thing, where I pretend that people are my dad, just for a second. Because I’d rather live in a world with him in it.

  4. Leslie*

    Sometimes I’ll see a man who sort of looks like him from the back — always in grocery stores, for some reason — and I’ll let myself pretend it’s him for a minute. But it never is.

    This happens to me all the time, too. My dad died when I was 27 and didn’t get to see me do a lot of things, too. I am sorry you lost your dad, Alison.

  5. Caledonia*

    It’s a horrible feeling when you think you see your parent (in my case my mum who died when I was 23) and it’s not them. It’s been seven years for me and time is strange, as you say, because it feels like all the time and yet none.

    Sorry for your loss

  6. Atlanta*

    This is such a lovely tribute. No question he would be so proud. It makes me miss my father even more. 12 years for me.

  7. Not So NewReader*

    And now we see how you got to be who you are. He showed you how to use your work to change the world or the parts of world that are willing to change. And you nailed it. Rock on.

    1. madge*

      This. It sounds like he achieved a perfect balance as human being. I’m teary-eyed now; that was a beautiful tribute.

    1. Not So NewReader*

      Twenty two years this April. It doesn’t stop but it does change shape and form. The world looks different without our folks.

  8. Mimmy*

    I remember when you originally posted this. Beautiful tribute. Sending you hugs today.

  9. JaneEyre*

    “Sometimes I’ll see a man who sort of looks like him from the back — always in grocery stores, for some reason.”
    I do this, too. Lovely post. Made me sad for all that could have been for you and for me.

  10. on a train in some rain*

    Dear Alison,
    So human and alive for sharing yourself and your dad and for remembering him and missing him and communing with him through the backs of strangers’ heads in grocery stores.

    1. Mookie*

      Yes, very well said. I’m sorry, Alison, for having lost such a person, but I’m sure you count yourself lucky to have had him for as long as you did. He sounds like a great dad. I always think I have a wonderful dad (and I absolutely do), but he’s wonderful in entirely different ways, almost mirror-opposite of yours, and that’s a good thing to remember, that love and joy are fleeting but are also worth finding in unexpected places, like the backs of stranger’s heads, even.

  11. Ms. Didymus*

    I never knew my dad, he wasn’t a good man, so I don’t know the loss you feel. But I cannot imagine the loss I would feel if I lost my Grampa.

    I like to think he always knew you would be a huge success. So while he never got to see it happen, he always knew it would.

  12. Bucket*

    Your dad sounds like a wonderful person, and I am sure he would be proud of you. Thank you for sharing his story, and yours.

  13. Me2*

    Thank you for this lovely post. My dad died of cancer 21 years ago on April 28. This is always a bittersweet time of year for me. I still think of him almost daily, and my sisters and I love when we have a dream he appears in, we always call each other to say that our dad “visited” last night.

      1. Marcela*

        I would not say that I hate the dreams with my Tata, my grandfather, but I can’t say I like them either. Even when I am dreaming, I remember he is not here anymore and wake up crying (as in my face is wet when I open my eyes). It’s like I’m being reminded of what I lost. I envy you :-/

      2. caryatid*

        i too lost my wonderful father to cancer, it’s been almost 3 years.

        i am finally starting to have dreams where he isn’t sick – i’m happy when i wake up, and it’s bittersweet the rest of the day.

        1. Ask a Manager* Post author

          I have a recurring dream where he’s back and it turned out his death wasn’t actually real and he’s been hiding out underground for all these years (it’s never fully explained why). Often he’s still sick but not as sick. And I am always super excited and do a rapid-fire burst of all the things I regret not telling him.

          1. Monica*

            My mom died from leukemia almost 26 years ago when I was 11. For the longest time, I fantasized she was in witness protection (also never explained why). I knew it wasn’t true, but it was easier for me to pretend she was out there somewhere. It never gets easier, does it? Just… different.

          2. LBK*

            I have this dream all the time about my dad – that he didn’t die, but was actually put into witness protection by the FBI. Usually in the dream he just moves back in with my mom like nothing happened, which is particularly awkward for my stepdad.

            1. Ask a Manager* Post author

              Yes! In my dream, he moves back in with my stepmom, who has been in a long-term relationship with someone else for quite a few years.

  14. Amber Rose*

    That last bit struck me pretty hard. My mom died almost 5 years ago, when I was 23. I often feel like I see her walking by.

    5 years, 15 years or 25 years, it never really leaves you.

  15. Thinking out loud*

    Thanks for sharing, and I’m sorry for your loss. My grandmother, with whom I was very close, died six years ago – I always think of stories I want to tell her or I’ll see something (generally a book) that would be perfect for her.

  16. Brett*

    When did your dad work for the U-T?

    I grew up in Escondido in the 80s and might remember some of his writing. (I knew Jim Trotter fairly well because he covered high school wrestling back then, and Maura Reynolds from an article she wrote on me, but they were covering local sports.) One of our neighbors was Dave Owen, KNSD 39 helicopter reporter and news anchor. My dad has lived in San Diego almost his entire life, so he especially might remember some significant local articles (though he has always been more of a Times-Advocate sports section person).

    1. Ask a Manager* Post author

      He worked for the Union-Tribune itself from 1979-1984 (covering politics), but it’s a Copley News Service paper and he kept writing for Copley once we moved back to D.C. in ’84 until he died in 2001 — so his stuff kept appearing in the U-T that whole time. In D.C., he was the head of Copley’s Washington bureau for a while, and then moved to doing a syndicated political column for them, and much of that stuff would have made its way to the U-T.

      1. Brett*

        I’m probably barely too young to remember when he worked directly for the U-T. I almost certainly read some of his writing in high school though. We practically memorized the U-T and LA Times for academic competition. Plus that was still far enough back that we actually clipped out articles and columns to bring into class for assignments :)
        I do very distinctly remember my teacher in elementary school reading to us out of the U-T the day after Reagan won over Carter. It’s pretty much my earliest political memory and your dad likely had a hand in it.

  17. LiteralGirl*

    Alison, thanks for sharing this. My dad died of AIDS when I was 21 and, though he was very much an absent father, I still miss him. I love the dreams, though they are fewer and far between 28 years later. I still see him in the odd stranger and wonder how life would have been different had he been around.
    Thank you for sharing this part of you.

  18. Mean Something*

    I love this post and the fact that you republished it. There’s no amount of passing time that would make a daughter’s tribute any less relevant or heartfelt.

    I also love that you posted it on his birthday even though it coincides with Mother’s Day. It doesn’t do anything to diminish the holiday for those who are celebrating it, and for those who experience Mother’s Day in a minor key, it’s a reminder to cherish other connections, and that other people have feelings of loss on this day, too.

    1. Ask a Manager* Post author

      Yes, I thought about the Mother’s Day thing, but I also thought, as you say, that it’s a reminder to appreciate the people who are still here. (This is the anniversary of his death; I just originally wrote it on his birthday, so that’s why the birthday reference.)

      1. The Cosmic Avenger*

        I thought it was really sweet. I posted on FB this morning about missing my mom, who passed away in 2008, and for some reason this post made me smile and feel like I did when people posted comments about remembering my mom fondly.

  19. allisonthe5th*

    Wow, beautiful tribute. Thank you for sharing with us. This is also the 2nd anniversary of my Grandfather’s death. He died at 93, after 72 years of devoted marriage to my Grammie, and following her in death by 22 days. My Mom and I have had a teary memory fest this morning. Peace to you and your family as you remember your Father.

  20. Ann Cognito*

    Such a wonderful tribute to your dad! I very much enjoyed reading it, and feel that I now know him just a tiny little bit. He sounds like he had a great personality.

  21. Newbie*

    Thank you for sharing this. I’m still misty-eyed as I type.

    The reminder to appreciate the people who are still here hits home for me, as my grandma passed away more 35 years ago on Mother’s Day. It’s a bruise that gets pressed every year for my mom, who was a young woman at the time.

    I’ve seen first-hand that it’s something you never get over.

  22. Father Ribs*

    A wonderful tribute. Did you finally read Treasure Island and David Copperfield?

  23. New Bee*

    And now I’m crying into my oatmeal.

    My dad died 4 years ago next month (I was 23), and I’m especially sensitive when I think about how he didn’t see any of us (I have all sisters) get married, that he didn’t meet his second grandchild (my sister’s 2-year-old), and won’t meet the one I’m carrying now, that he only saw 2 of us graduate college (my 4 younger sisters were still in high school/college)–the missed opportunities are what really get to me.

    1. Ask a Manager* Post author

      Me too. I just had lunch with my mom, and it’s so weird to think about how she’s gotten to see so much more of my and my sister’s lives than he did (plus the entirety of my nieces’ lives). Like whole eras. It’s weird for her too, I’m sure.

    2. JessaB*

      Yes, my father died the December before I met the man I married (who I met the following June,) and I still can’t remember what year I got married without counting up from when he died. It ticks me off so much that he didn’t get to meet my husband as I’d been engaged before to a different guy that I never married while he was alive. He didn’t see me graduate Uni either (I went later, I didn’t go directly out of high school.)

  24. ECH*

    Very sweet!!

    A year and a half and it’s still weird for me … even though he was sick for a long time and this was not unexpected.

  25. Char*

    Amazing and so sweet. I am sure he would be very proud.
    Don’t we all wish that those who aren’t with us were here at least for a split of a second to see their faces again and hug them one more time?

  26. likeOMG*

    He sounds like a hell of a dad, Alison. A knack for being ‘skeptical without being cynical’ is a good description of you as well, having seen that. It’s an honor to know him in some very small way, from you and your calm, deft advice and dry sense of humor, managing even the most awkward of our situations with grace. Thank you for existing, Alison. I think I’ll go hug my dad now.

  27. Jean*

    This is a lovely portrait of your father, Alison. I’m sorry you lost him so early in your own life.
    You forgot to mention the AAM community as another one of your achievements that your father didn’t get to see.

  28. Jamie Hensley*

    There must be a lot of dust in my kitchen…or onions chopping….or something. I’m definitely not crying.

    This was beautiful. I’m sorry for you loss. Your father sounds like a helluva guy, wish there were more like him.

  29. Jake*

    “He once tried to get out of a dinner invitation with a Very Important Person a month in advance by telling the person that he had to walk his dog that night. He didn’t see why I thought this was a bad excuse.”

    My wife and your dad a kindred spirits. I’m sorry for your loss.

  30. Rahera*

    Extremely moving, and a lovely tribute. Thank you so much for sharing these memories of your Dad with us. Thinking of you on this anniversary.

  31. Cathie from Canada*

    Thanks very much for this. My dad passed 32 years ago — at least he saw my daughter and he knew I was pregnant again, but he never saw my son.
    I still talk to him, and to my mom, who died five years before Dad did.
    What I find painful now is that today’s medicine could have saved him — he died of a heart attack caused by a blood clot following ulcer surgery, and today his ulcers could have been cured with antibiotics.

  32. Kristine*

    This is lovely. Thank you for sharing, he sounds like a really great person and father. I am sending you good vibes today.

  33. Vancouver Reader*

    This post is so sweet; it gave me chills the first time I read it and it did again this time. I was luckier in that although my mother passed away when I was older, I still feel like I didn’t have enough time to spend with her. Our biggest regret (besides that my sister & I actually have to talk to our dad now ;) ) is that mom had so much more in life that she wanted to see and do. I think that would’ve been the same with your dad Alison, he sounds like he had so much more to do in the world, and wasn’t given the opportunity.

  34. Lo*

    I think it is quite clear where your humor and creativity come from, Alison..thank you for sharing this with us. Sending you good thoughts today.

  35. Mirilla*

    What a lovely tribute to your dad. How lucky you were to have had someone so wonderful in your life who has left a lasting impression on you.

  36. GreenTeaPot*

    Beautiful! I would have liked him, had our paths crossed when I was a political reporter, I am certain!

  37. Jen*

    My dad died 4/30/03, and this time of year I always miss him. As the weather gets warm and I know he’d love it on his motorcycle.
    I graduated college yesterday and it made it even harder.
    Losing a parent never seems to get easier as the years go by.
    <3

  38. Tara*

    Thank you for this.

    My grandfather, who was a million times more father to me than my actual father, died 3 weeks ago. I am not coping well.

    This post made me feel the love for a little moment, not just the sadness.

    1. Not So NewReader*

      I am so sorry. May his words and insights be of help to you for the rest of your life.

  39. Something Clever*

    What a beautiful tribute. Thank you for sharing it.

    And I love your red hair, especially in your baby picture.

  40. Karyn*

    This post made me cry the first time you posted it and it made me cry again today. Thank you for it.

  41. CM*

    I’m so sorry for your loss… even though it happened a long time ago, some things always stay with you. It’s clear how proud you are to be his daughter.

  42. irritable vowel*

    What a lovely tribute – it really gives a sense of who your father was. I’m so sorry for your loss, and thank you for sharing with us!

  43. Blue Anne*

    Geez, Alison. I cried. I’m so sorry.

    I lost my dad to cancer when I was 16 and what I have learned from it is… no one ever knows how you feel. It’s totally different for everyone. It just sucks in unique ways. For me, it’s been ten years, and it feels like forever, like he died when I was a baby.

    I feel like our dads would’ve been buddies. He was on me for years to read Kidnapped.

  44. TC_Seattle*

    Wit and wisdom — a lovely tribute that shows the tree from which your apple grows.

  45. Aswin Kini MK*

    After reading this post, all I can think about my dad. Fortunately, he is still alive, but not the man he was before he lost his left leg due to amputation.

    Your post is really a “tribute” to a dad even though if it points to some of his shortcomings. It just goes to show that even if a dad has some imperfections, to their children, they are gods.

  46. Jessica (tc)*

    I remember when you posted this before, but it still made me laugh and cry. Your dad sounds like an amazing man.

    I still sometimes suddenly remember my grandmother (who was my mother-figure growing up when I desperately needed a mom) when I see someone with hair like hers. A few weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night, in the midst of a very real dream, and I could still hear her voice from my dream. It was the closest I’ve felt to her since she passed away.

  47. Aunt Vixen*

    My dad’s been gone three and a half years (also cancer of the esophagus). A year or so ago I saw someone on the train who looked astonishingly like him in profile – same haircut, same coat, same resting expression on a similarly-shaped face. Sneaked a picture of the guy on my phone and texted it to my brother for a sanity check, and he agreed the resemblance was uncanny. I had to really work to stop staring, but if he’d noticed me I’m sure he’d just have thought I was some random girl crying on the train.

  48. Sanguine Aspect*

    Thank you for sharing this with us, Alison. A beautiful tribute and excellent reminder to appreciate the people we love fiercely.

  49. Ms. Anne Thrope*

    Sorry for your loss.

    And ours. We could use some journalists like your dad nowadays.

  50. K-VonSchmidt*

    Wonderful tribute. In 9 days it will be a year since my Dad passed away.

  51. Sky*

    I really needed this. I’ve been thinking of my dad all weekend – I know, I know, Mother’s Day but it’s because of Father’s Day next month. We were all with my dad last year on Father’s Day, right after his cancer We thought he’d have at least a year. We were all wrong.

    What a lovely memories. It sounds like your dad was quite the character!

  52. Tammy*

    What a beautiful tribute. My parents are both still alive, but I’ve had some experiences recently that have reminded me that life doesn’t guarantee any of us tomorrow, and that we should spend time with the people we love while we can.

    Two years ago, I was in another city for a conference and had planned to stop off and see a friend who lived there. She’d been suffering chronic health issues for a long time, and it had been a while since I’d visited. By the end of the conference, I was exhausted and almost called her to say “I’m really tired so I’m going home, but we’ll get together soon.” But I didn’t do that – I stopped off and we had a lovely visit. Barely two months later, she died of a heart attack in her sleep (her disease had weakened her heart) in her early 40s. I can imagine only too well how I’d have felt if I’d canceled my visit.

  53. Bowserkitty*

    He would be very proud of you, and I’m sure he is watching over you even now.

    I have to admit I had a chuckle at the chocolate bar part. :)

  54. LittleJ*

    As a daily reader, I feel like I’ve gotten to see glimpses of your personality through the wonderful advice you give. This tribute to your dad is beautifully done, I feel like now I know him too (and more about you). He sounds like a character you’d see in a movie and want to be friends with … that person at the party with the best stories to tell. Thank you for sharing part of him with us, and my condolences as your honor his memory.

  55. MissCharlene*

    Such a beautiful post!! I also lost my dad in 2001 and am saddened he did not get to see me get married, graduate from college, grad school, etc. He too was one tough cookie and probably would have had similar concerns over my being drawn to the nonprofit world :) I found a quote he had written down (taken from a book or a movie), “Death ends a life, not a relationship”. So very true!

    1. Not So NewReader*

      Oh my and this is so important. Bodies die but love does not. Love is not like a water faucet that you can turn on and off. As long as we love, we will grieve in one form or another.

  56. AtrociousPink*

    What a wonderful dad you had! I’m sorry you lost him way too early. Thank you for sharing your memories.

  57. KayDee*

    So lovely.
    My dad died suddenly just before Christmas. I tend to see him in hockey arenas, which is where I saw him the most frequently the past few years. Due to the suddenness and recentness of his passing I have to remind myself that it is not him. It gives me comfort that I will get to the point that I will pretend it is my dad for few moments. I look forward to the shift from remembering that he died to remembering him.

  58. INFJ*

    Thanks so much for sharing; it seems as though you’ve been instilled with his qualities and values. I especially liked this:
    “He desperately wanted me to change career paths, but when anyone asked him about it, he’d bite his tongue and say, ‘We raised Alison to stand up for what she believes in.'”

  59. JessaB*

    What a lovely tribute to your dad. He seems to have been a really smart, decent, nice guy who knew when as you said to give the finger to someone/thing. And it shows in you and the way you run this blog.

    Also must stop by to say that “small Alison” is amazing in that picture. My dad was big on reading too. Reminds me of me. My biggest day of the year was my birthday trip every year to the ginormous Barnes and Noble in Manhattan (back when B&N was one brick and mortar store. I remember when they opened the second store across the street.) Yes even as a little the big thing of the year was a trip to the bookstore with 100 whole dollars to spend on ANYTHING I wanted. Books books books.

    When I got my first job I barely made 100 bucks a week after taxes (looking at my Social Security statement it was like 125.) and I got a whole hundred on books. I think my da would have liked yours a whole lot.

  60. Sarah from Long Island*

    What a beautifully poignant, and seemingly random post to read on the Monday after Mothers day. I am in tears here…. but I guess they are not all sad. A day all about my Mum sure brought up a million thoughts of my dear dad too.

    My dad left this plain suddenly at the end of October in 2013. He was 52 and I was 33. It helps me to know that I am my father’s daughter. My pride for him will never diminish. I find a lot of comfort when realizing that I am… in a lot of ways, just like him. I am a chip off the old block. I am pieced together from facets of both my mother and my father and I am fortunate enough to see that turning out just like my parents is a blessing.

    Yes, it burns BADLY when I grieve for all the moments we did not get to share on this physical plain. I think that part of my grieving is harder than the loss itself. I still have a lifetime to live and it is so hard when I imagine having to do those things without my dad. My soul cries.

    However, my soul also feels happiness for it knows his love for me still. Although he left too soon, I am lucky to have shared my first 33 years with this guy as my dad. The love is immeasurable and still carries into my life on a daily basis.

    My condolences to all who grieve for the loss of a parent. I am glad to read (Miss Alison) that you also count yourself as fortunate for having a dad like yours… but my heart aches for your loss.

    1. Not So NewReader*

      Your dad was so young. I am so sorry.

      It’s odd. The younger they are sometimes that makes it even harder. I was 34 when my dad died but he was 74. Each loss has it’s own unique thing to it. I was upset because his life was so hard- depression kid, WWII, etc.

      My friend helps me with my old house. He says sometimes when he is alone here he feels an older man just standing there watching. My friend says the presence does not bother him, the older man feels like he is nodding and smiling as my friend works. The presence is warm/kind, my friend says, and he says it feels like the presence is watching to make sure my friend does not get hurt while doing the repairs. I said, that sounds like my father.

      My father used to say when we get to the other side we are instructed to watch over those we love. In spite of absolutely no hard evidence, it comforts me to think about this.

  61. Rabbit*

    Alison, this was lovely. I love the photos of you two. I’m sure he would have been immensely proud of you and all you’ve done!

  62. Formica Dinette*

    Alison, thank you so much for sharing this part of yourself with us. I didn’t know about AAM in 2011, so I’m glad you reposted it. Your dad was clearly an incredible guy!

  63. MassChick*

    Coming out lurk-mode for only the second time to say that this was one of the loveliest tributes I’ve read. What a rocking man and father! I love that he loved gossip – I am a snoop by nature and Google people far and wide. I tell myself that it’s a harmless vice – I never pass on the info or use it with malice. I just like to know. Why? I don’t know.

  64. sjw*

    I seldom take the time to comment — but I’m doing so now just to say ….. beautiful. And I need to write some similar thoughts about my own dad, who left us in 2010. I frequently see what looks like the back of his head, or his profile, when stuck in traffic.

  65. Cheryl Becker*

    Thanks for this lovely, heartfelt post. I wish I had known your dad, and I am sending you hugs.

    I can’t decide if my favorite part is about “we raised Alison to stand up for what she believes in,” or eating the surprise piece of chocolate.

    My dad died 19 years ago, and I no longer think I see him everywhere. But I dream of him often.

  66. junipergreen*

    This is a beautiful tribute. You have such a way with words, and it’s so lovely to learn that your dad seemed to have passed this on to you. That is such a gift! Also, you you seem to share that great sense of humor… monthly dog walks indeed!

  67. Ask a Manager* Post author

    I wanted to thank everyone for these incredibly nice comments. I had a fairly awful day yesterday with the anniversary, and it was really comforting to read these. Thank you!

  68. harryv*

    Thank you for sharing! He definitely sounded like a no BS, in the moment type guy!

  69. Former Retail Manager*

    Late to the party….but what a wonderful tribute. Thank you for sharing indeed. I sit teary eyed at my desk. I love that you conveyed his sense of humor and seem to have quite a bit of it yourself.

  70. Doodlebug*

    Beautiful. Made me cry. He sounds like a wonderful father.

    I have my Dad, but my mother passed away 9/2014. It’s weird losing a parent. My mother was sick for a long time and then passed after suffering greatly. It’s a weird feeling when your only consolation is that they are no longer suffering. If they were here, they’d be suffering, if gone, no suffering. Horrible choice. Hugs.

  71. Libby*

    Isn’t it strange how the feeling of absence ebbs and flows? Sometimes I barely think about missing my dad, but sometimes it seems like he was just here–or rather, he _should_ just be here. Anniversaries and milestones are especially hard for me, too. I hope you find peace in your happy memories.

  72. bloopsmcgee*

    This is such a lovely tribute. Thanks for sharing a snapshot into the mind of a wonderful man, and I’m sorry for your loss

  73. Claudia*

    I’m so sorry.

    I lost my Dad 6 months ago. His birthday was last month, and I’m dreading Father’s Day.

    Hardest part was learning that the world keeps going, when it feels like you’ve stopped.

    I’m glad to know, from people like yourself, that the love and memories never fade. If some pain and tears are the price I pay to keep that memory alive, I pay it gladly.

    Your post made me smile….and cry. Thank you for sharing him. NEVER stop sharing him.

  74. Spice for this*

    This is very lovely. I have tears in my eyes reading this since my father passed away 3 months ago (he had stage 4 cancer).

  75. Evan Þ*

    What an amazing dad you had. I love what you said about his always biting his tongue in front of other people when your career came up.

    (What’d he think when he found out just what news story he’d missed for that baseball game?)

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