My dad died fourteen years ago at age eighty-eight – shortly after I qualified for Medicare. Even at my advanced age, his demise left me feeling rudderless.
Some days I would think about him fleetingly or not at all.
Some days, especially if I was in the throes of a situation, I would long for his input and wonder what advice he would give me.
Shortly after my dad passed away, I was driving by myself to meet a friend for lunch, grappling with a dilemma on whether to commit to doing something I really didn’t want to do. It was something I felt obligated to do even though my time and resources were in short supply.
“What would my dad say to me?” I wondered. “What would my dad say to me?”
Immediately – this phrase – one I had never heard him utter – but one that completely captured what I needed to hear – popped into my head:
DON’T LET THE WORLD MAKE AN OLD LADY OUT OF YOU.
He wasn’t telling me exactly what to do. Rather, I interpreted this phrase to mean that I should do what protects and serves me best. And I have tried to live by that moniker ever since.
My dad was a character and had many witty sayings and comebacks that could provide a good laugh, substitute for a hefty hug and provide a way forward in a myriad of situations:
Get over it.
Don’t get hurt; Get even.
If you throw enough sh-t, some of it is bound to stick.
All for one and one for all.
My dad truly believed that all it took to keep the family together was to go out to eat, order lots of food, keep the liquor flowing, and then pay for everyone.
And it worked.
He also had some very quirky sayings that we all became very familiar with over time:
What my dad relayed to each person in our family before we took the State of Ohio Real Estate Agent exam:
Any idiot can pass it.
His most favorite toast:
Here’s to those who wish us well
and all the rest can go to Hell
He was asked by an acquaintance the following: “Pike, now that you have money, you don’t talk to me?” He replied:
I didn’t talk to you when I didn’t have any money.
Walking into the living room and seeing me sprawled on the couch, sobbing over my high school boyfriend’s breaking-up with me:
There’s nothing deader than yesterday’s romance.
Advice he gave to me after my divorce, upon beginning to date my future husband, Steven:
DON’T F-CK IT UP!
Bette Midler once said, “The only truly dead are those who have been forgotten.”
That surely won’t happen to my dad – at least not for as long as I’m around. My dad made life for the members of his family richer in tradition, more secure and certainly more colorful – knowing that there was one wild, crazy, unique and very loving man behind us all.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
