In June of 2013 we celebrated my dad’s last Father’s Day. He died in July of 2013. His birthday was in August and summer was his favorite season. He lived for warm weather, his annual 4th of July BBQ, and spending time outdoors. He was the tan man (pics below for context).
My dad was diagnosed with cancer when I was living in Miami with GAL after grad school. My parents told me over FaceTime and I sobbed. “It is kidney cancer and it is treatable, this isn’t a big deal, don’t panic.” I remember saying “but dad they haven’t even done a biopsy, how can they be sure?” Unfortunately, I was right. Supposed kidney cancer ended up being a rare form of bladder cancer. One aggressive clinical trial, one major surgery, a few rounds of radiation, and less than 12 months later he died. My world would never be the same.
For someone that preferred solitude, he was someone everyone wanted to be around. His funeral was standing room only and 11 years later people still reach out to me to share stories of what an incredible person he was. His passion for life was something everyone was hoping to absorb. He was authentically invested in the success and well being of the people he cared about. He was flawed yet his flaws somehow made him more perfect. He had struggled in various aspects of his life and it took him some time to find his way. Because of this he was incapable of judgment, the truest form of open minded.
As good of a person as he was, he was an even better father. One of my earliest memories of him as a parent is him sitting me down and reminding me that no matter what I can always tell him anything. He said even if I were to murder someone he would still love me and likely bail me out of jail. He was interested in every aspect of my life. Whether it be what costume I wore to my sorority mixer or what my work cubicle look liked, he genuinely cared. When I started grad school or a new job in the city he would do a “test run” of the commute with me to make sure I knew where I was going and that I would arrive there safely.
I will never forget when I moved to Miami and we would FaceTime every day after I finished work. I remember GAL asking me if we were FaceTiming daily because I had moved out of state and I looked at him confused. “No, we would do this if I were home, too.” We talked 800 times a day. Most days, we both could tell you what the other had eaten for breakfast lunch and dinner.
My dad was my best friend and to know him was to love him. He was a simple man. When he found a t-shirt or running shoe he liked, he would buy 10 of them. When he fell in love with something, he didn’t search for something better. And when he became aware his illness was terminal, he never made special requests or longed for anything more than time with our family. He didn’t have the proverbial “bucket list” because all he could reflect on was how he had lived a “charmed” life. My mom was the love of his life. He was content with everything he had.
One thing my dad felt he was being robbed of was the chance to be a grandparent. Having named me after both of his grandparents (Nate and Ida) he was crushed that he would never get to meet his grandchildren. I promised him that if I ever had kids that they would know him. And I like to think I have kept my promise. We talk about my dad all the time. We go to his favorite restaurants or vacation destinations and share all of our stories about him along the way. We talk about what happens when you die and when we see a cardinal or hear his favorite songs we say “hi Papa Steve!”All five boys have his name as their middle name.
I will never understand why my dad was taken from me so soon. At the same time, it will never be lost on me that I won the lottery in life getting him as my dad. So this one is for all the dads out there. The ones with us and the ones taken too soon. Happy Father’s Day! Until next time, take care.
I love this so much! His memory definitely lives on!
Beautiful tribute to who was without a doubt a special and amazing man ❤️ loved reading about him.