My father was always singing or humming some upbeat tune such as Zip-a-dee-dod-dah or 76 trombones or any number of Christmas songs no matter the time of year. I can always hear his voice in those songs and many others. One of the few recordings I have of him is singing Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer at some family Christmas party when I was very young. I know precisely where it is but haven’t listened to it since he died, in fear that doing so would lead me down a bad road from which I wouldn’t be able to escape for some time. But knowing it is there, unchanged, is a good feeling.
The man who was all but superman to this weak child had a mutant cell and that cell found favorable conditions in which to reproduce. And that cell turned superman into a human, and then took over that human. Even at the age of 30 I continued to see that superhero veneer, thin and cracked as it may have become. I am certainly not alone in watching cancer destroy my father, but it’s the only experience I have and the only father I had 2+ years later and I still don’t know what to do and wish for him to be here – so we can watch the Cubs, and listen to old radio shows, and I can try to get him to talk about his memories from long before me, and so I can try to make him proud of me.
I’ll never be rich and will likely always have little money, I’ve never been in a good relationship, I’ve made a great, great many mistakes and squandered most of the advantages I was born into, but I hope beyond everything that he would still be proud of the person I’ve become.
Happy father’s day to all the dads out there.
Happy father’s day, Dad. I miss you and love you,