#461-That Time of Year…For My Dad

I know what you are thinking, “Where’s the Friday Fiction this week?” Well, it turns out that today is the day my father died just a few years back and I thought I’d talk a little about him. Actually, I love talking about him as often as I can without boring the people around me. So, today I will see if I can write about him a lot without boring all of you subscribers out there.

My dad, James, hardly ever called me by my name, Chris, rather he always referred to me as ‘Pal.’ I grew up thinking this was great since if I wasn’t his son, he still considered me a best friend or ‘Pal.’

My dad’s father died when he was 12 years old. My grandfather got a deferment from WWII so that he could work in the coal mines and that is where he perished. Over the years, I found out that my dad and HIS dad were just about as close as my dad and I were.

So, my dad continued the feeling and super-bonded with me. We always had so much in common, our humor, our likes in literature and film and our overall enjoyment of each other’s company. When cable came to Lake County, dad (who had moved away for his health after the divorce from my mom) would call up and ask me, “Hey Pal, do you get TBS or TNT on your cable channel?”

After I would answer to the affirmative, he’d shoot back, “Then turn on your television, there’s one of our favorite movies coming on in 10 minutes. That gives you time to get your pop and chips together and I’m going to open a can of chili.”

And for the next three hours we would watch the movie to the tune of about $600 a month on my phone bill, I mean, no unlimited minutes back in THOSE days! And this next story will tell you of his ability to get things done.

One Saturday night, the two of us were heading out for a film festival somewhere in Fairport Harbor. Of course we got lost, so dad saw a big sign on the side of the road proclaiming that we had just entered the city limits and who was the mayor.

My dad turned to me and said, “Watch this, Pal!”

He found a found booth (Google it if you don’t know what this is) and looked up the mayor’s address and then asked at a gas station where we could find this street. Once we got there, dad smoothed down his hair and shirt and knocked on the door.

When the door was opened, my father, with great flourish, introduced himself.

“Mr. (so and so, can’t remember his name after all this time) My son and I are visitors in your fair city and have heard about the great things you have done for this small metropolis, and we were lost and were wondering…”

The mayor took to the compliments like a shot, inviting us both inside, offering us beverages while he got on the phone and tracked down this film festival!

That night I had the time of my life hanging out with dad and seeing the old films that we talked about all the way home.

Even now, I remember my dad playing several instruments, and in many bands when he was young. He even turned me on to the Beatles and Eric Clapton before I could latch on to them!

When dad was in his 80’s, I went down south (again, for his health where it was warmer) to visit and filmed an interview (I advise everyone to do so with a loved one) with him, covering his whole life. One of the last questions I ever asked him on the film was…

… “I know the two of you were close, (referring to my grandfather) do you ever think of him.”

Without hesitation, he answered grimly…

… “Every day!”

And without realizing it, decades of stories about my dad and HIS dad came to me in a flash, and then knowing first hand of all the adventures I had with myself and MY dad, I blurted out without being able to stop…

… “Just like me and you.”

This was followed my silence between the two of us, me, behind the camera and dad, laying on the bed, propped up like Jim Bowie on his deathbed at the Alamo, trying to still give orders in his weakened state.

We continued to stare at one another for several long seconds. We were reading each other’s mind, there were no need for words between the two of us that had lived a long life of love between each other.

Years later, when my dad did finally pass away, someone asked me, “Were the two of you close?”

I thought the question was unanswerable as if anyone could put all of those years and thoughts and love into a mere couple of words.

And then it hit me! The simplest answer in the world came to me and I did indeed give a reply to the person on exactly how close my dad and I were.

“Yes, we were very close, in fact, we were the exact same person…with two different birthdays!”

To this day, many people after I have told some stories about him, think that the relationship between me and my dad was strange, odd, unusual or at the least…unique!

Strangely I don’t think that way. I loved my dad growing up and still do. I was raised with this kind of joy for life every day that I was around him.

So, yeah, it might have been unique to some, but he was my dad, and I enjoyed his company. So for me, it was just…normal!

PS: Picture for today is from a vacation the two of us took long ago at Myrtle Beach, getting in an old life boat and saluting for the fun of it.