Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Happy New Year.
Hope you are well. At least as well as I am, which is pretty darn good.
***
Dad
Dad turns 91 on Saturday.
Call him on the phone and he sounds younger than my 61 years. He's WAY smarter than me (or you). WAY better memory than mine (or yours).
Way nicer than me. Maybe you. (Probably.)
Dad is a kind man.
*
Lost count of the times/places he's been in the hospital this year. Many. His nurses and doctors ALWAYS tell us what a delight he is. Even when he's sick or in pain or "wondering what the hell is going on."
Dad is loved by one and all.
I'd like to be more like Dad.
*
Dad has aged this year. Dialysis sucks the impurities from his blood three times a week, and a bit of life too.
But Dad never complains. He is grateful toward those who love and care for him. Doesn't want to be a burden. Doesn't manipulate or bicker. Zero guilt trips. Doesn't make things worse.
I'd like to be more like Dad.
*
Dad lives 150 miles away, over the rivers and through the woods. I try to see him at least once a month.
We sat by Chickamauga Dam the last time we were together.
Water was being released.
Could you have fun watching water with your dad?
I can.
We had a good laugh at this house.
Nice view. Crummy parking.
Never a burden to hang around with Dad. He naturally knows how to get along. Not in a phony, chameleon way. He's himself with two people or twenty. He's easy to get along with and he knows how to express himself without being offensive.
I'd like to be more like Dad.
*
Dad always makes me steak and eggs when I visit. Big steaks. Delicious, made his special way.
Yes. Dad wears a skirt. Took me a long time to deal with it.
Sure, he calls it a "lava-lava," but I know the truth.
His decades in Hawaii tainted him.
But I hope I get to make my kids breakfast when they visit me in 20 years.
*
Yeah, he lived in Hawaii for 30 years or so. Tough, but somebody has to, right?
Here's a picture I took at sunrise from the back door of his condo on Ala Moana Blvd, next to the Ala Wai Canal.
His front porch, known as a "lanai" in Never-Never Land, had a pretty cool view too.
That building in the middle on the left is Dad's yacht club. Bunch of fun Hawaiian rednecks. Great. Times. Just beer and burgers in Paradise.
Watched the Braves win the World Series there in 1995.
Idyllic spot. Beyond a happy place.
Forgot how many times I went to see him. Many.
I always loved watching the happenings at Ala Wai Marine.
I never got tired of watching them work as I rested on the lanai.
Dad and I always began the day the same way. Reading the paper and talking about what we read.
Sounds stupid; but, delightful memories. Just hanging out.
Even though he wore a skirt.
I love Dad, but I don't want to wear a skirt.
*
Dad didn't always live on Ala Moana Blvd.
He was the head of the condo honchos who sold the building to investors. Afterward, Dad leased a real-live penthouse overlooking Diamond Head.
That. Was. Nice.
When people visited, I couldn't wait for them to ask for directions to the bathroom. I'd tell them, "Go down the hallway ... and take the first, second or third door on your right."
Yup. Three in a row. Don't ask me why.
Dad's neighbor penthousers used to come to his place for the view. His was unobstructed. Theirs wasn't.
Ever seen the movie, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind"? Remember the mountain with all the vertical striations -- like finger marks down the sides? Diamond Head is filled with such crevices. Used to sit for hours on Dad's lanai watching the sun illuminate and hide the holes in the side of the mountain.
Very cool.
I was there once when a president (Clinton?) came to town. I went up to the roof and watched the helicopters fly in and land. Laughed ever since about how the reporters were in the first couple of helicopters. Just in case. Ha!
*
Diamond Head is a cool place to hike. The top of the old volcano was blown into the sea. Read Psalm 46 at the top once:
1) God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
2) Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change
And though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea;
Yup. God is more faithful than mountains.
*
When the housing market crashed, Dad moved back to the condo on Ala Moana -- on a higher floor.
Perfect spot.
Dad's life has been amazingly blessed.
I do not believe in luck, but if I did ... Dad would be its poster child.
*
Is this getting too long?
Not that I care.
My dad's worth reading about.
I hope I will be someday.
*
Dad and I have not always been close.
I grew up in Rochester, NY.
Dad left for the bright lights and big city when I was young.
Happens.
Didn't see him much until I was in college.
That's when he called to chat.
I was rude. Hostile, really.
Told him he didn't love me.
That he didn't even know me.
I was right. And I was wrong.
That night he booked a flight for me to visit him in Marin County.
Helicopter from SFO and all.
Didn't want to go. My girlfriend encouraged me to go west.
She drove me to the airport, where I got drunk. Poured me onto the plane to Chicago. Kissed me goodbye.
Got bumped in Chicago to first-class on later a flight. Learned the words "Leave the bottle, please" from the guy next to me. We *really* got drunk.
That's when flying first-class was like flying first-class.
Landed at SFO. Found the helicopter. Sobered up as I devoured the view of San Francisco, SF Bay and Marin County. Stupendous.
Dad met me. With my step-mother, Patsy.
Interesting.
Moved there not long afterward.
Whatever happened before didn't matter.
I fell in love with my dad. And Patsy.
And San Francisco.
And Sam's Anchor Cafe in Tiburon (where I met my first tattooed lady).
Played pinball and laughed with friends most nights at Sam's.
Good times on the bay.
Now, it's all snooty with uber-preppies in sailboats and dudes in Cigarette boats.
But it'll always be a dive to me.
Where the cook hung out with Gracie Slick
and I met the daughter of the head of the Republican Party.
Merry old times.
*
Moved to Alaska a year or so later. Then, NYC, DC, and back home.
That's when Dad moved to Hawaii.
*
Dad has been everywhere. I'm thankful he recorded some of his travels and memories for us a few years back. Fascinating to listen to.
Dad loves to cruise. Took one from Sydney, Australia to Singapore.
Honestly, do you even know where Singapore is? Or if it's a city or a country? I didn't.
Dad's been there a bunch of times. Even has a favorite restaurant.
Dad has some pretty cool pals.
Yup. He and Jack Daniels are lifelong companions.
Dad has influential friends too. Like the guy who helped save the Apollo 13 mission. (Played by the geek in Apollo 13.)
Seriously. Here's a picture signed by everybody but the Wright brothers for his contribution to saving that mission.
Here's April, one of my favorite friends of Dad's. She's a travel wonk in Honolulu. She can get you into any place, any time. Even knows the dives where you eat the world's best curry with the locals at picnic tables all schmooshed together.
April got us on a dinner cruise -- for free, of course.
We were treated like royalty.
We were so close to the hula dancer, I had to wipe her sweat off my glasses. (Took much longer to wipe the smile off my face.)
I wanna have friends like Dad's.
*
We dragged Dad out of paradise and back to America a few years ago. I'm amazed he still speaks to us.
He lived life out there to the max. Didn't own a suit or a pair of shoes. Drove a beat-up old car that lost its shine decades ago. Spent his money traveling and on nice places to live. And on helping us visit him.
*
Dad isn't able to use the stairs at my brother's (MB) house.
They're brutal.
Always reminds me of that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, where Indy takes a step of faith. Takes faith and a steady hand to descend these suckers.
Dad loves using an electric buggy in stores.
(Can't say the same for the poor people he mows down while shopping for my steaks and Diet Dr Pepper.)
My Dad is great.
I love him.
And he loves me.
He'd love you too, I'll bet.
I wanna be loved like my Dad.
Even by my kids.
Even if I screw up.
Y'know?
*
Dad's at MB's now with my sister-in-law (SIL).
Dad's still reading the paper
and being loved on by MB and SIL.
*
Can you imagine moving in with your son and daughter-in-law and being welcomed and loved? Dad is cherished more than you imagine. Not just emotions or fluffiness.
Love in the form of scuffed up wooden floors that matter less than Dad. MB + SIL gave Dad their bedroom and downstairs bathroom.
When Dad needs to see a doctor? BAM! They take him.
When he needs something at the store? BAM! He's got it.
Godly, Christian love from family members who know and experience the love of God and salvation through Jesus Christ.
When Dad needs a diet that is beyond comprehension?
My SIL sees that it's done.
Even over Dad's mini-grumbling ...
because my SIL loves Dad most.
*
When I visit? He gets whatever he wants.
Even if it's not good for him.
Dad wouldn't have lasted this long with me caring for him.
SIL has stretched out Dad's years
and I will never be able to thank her enough.
*
Because of SIL, we'll celebrate Dad's 91st birthday this week.
We'll be happy and thankful for him
and all our days together.
And we won't think of the holes Dad will leave in our hearts when he's no longer with us.
Nothing and no one will take Dad's place.
Dad makes things better.
I wanna be like Dad.
*
Not dealing well with your folks?
Just
Get
Over
It.
Generations are meant to love and forgive one another.
As all the John Wayne movies Dad and I have watched together say, "Don't burn daylight."
I cannot thank God enough for these years, months, weeks, days and hours with Dad.
And I can't wait to celebrate his birth and life on Christmas Eve.
*
Dad's not my savior. He's not perfect.
But people you really love don't have to be.
Y'know?
