Legacy Writing 365:109

April 18 is a crap day in our family history. It’s the day we lost my father. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be that day, but as it happens, I was where I needed to be. Strange how things turn out sometimes.

He wasn’t a perfect man or husband or father. Thank goodness for that, because he was real. He had flaws; sometimes when I see those same flaws in myself, instead of beating myself up about them, I can just appreciate knowing that I’m his daughter.

A man doesn’t have to be perfect to be a good man–or husband and father. What I appreciate most of all was the unshakable love he had for his family: parents, siblings, nieces and nephews. He loved my brother, was proud of him, and was so often tickled by David’s wit. He adored my sister; Debby was his little girl until the day he died. And oh, those grandkids–a constant source of joy for him. He also loved his daughter-in-law and sons-in-law.

Perhaps the greatest gift he gave his children was the way he treated our mother–and expected us to treat her. Of course they had problems, like any couple. Sometimes they really annoyed each other. But it was a love story and remained one even after he died that April day while she sat next to his bed.

I love this photo, though I know nothing of its story.

Daddy’s the one on the right holding a cup in one hand and a beer stein in the other. I’m guessing it’s in Germany–not during the deployment when I was born there, but a later time when we were still in the States. (See edit below.) I love the laughter and look of camaraderie among these men. The guy in the lower left is Don Draper (Mad Men) handsome. I like a time when men who were normally in uniform dressed in suits or sports jackets.

When I first began painting small canvases in 1997, I had no idea why or what to do with them. This is one of the first: a tribute to both a favorite painter, Mark Rothko, and a favorite poet, Emily Dickinson. I can’t count the number of times after my father died that I read this poem and understood it in a way I never had before.

This is the Hour of Lead.

ETA 11/13/12: I love that my brother and sister can fill in blanks for me–another advantage to being the baby! David pointed out that Daddy has all the fingers on his right hand, which means this photo was taken before he lost his little finger to blood poisoning. Since that happened between his German tours, that makes this his first post-war deployment to Germany. David suggested that he was drinking coffee, rather than beer, because he knew he might have to go to the hospital any time. It took me a while to get his meaning: Maybe the photo was taken when my mother was pregnant with me!