Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads out there. I hope you are being treated like a King today. In our house, the king part hasn’t quite happened yet – Mike’s out mowing the lawn. Our gift is letting him enjoy the activities he loves without us getting in the way. LOL.  We did have a nice breakfast and Matthew will be over later for dinner.

My own Dad has been gone 13 years now. Hard to believe that much time has passed because he is still so present in my life. I still see something in the news, or after watching one of the Grand Slam tennis events, think I need to call him to chat about it. I see some of his expressions in Kathryn’s face.

He was a ferocious reader of news and books, especially those about history or Ireland. He loved politics. My father was a liberal with a strong sense of social justice. He loved to talk politics and I wish he had lived to see Obama in office. He wouldn’t have always agreed with him, but he would have enjoyed discussing his presidency. Thankfully he missed the majority of George W. Bush’s time in office. That would have given him another stroke.

When my Dad was his late 50’s, he suffered a massive stroke that left him paralyzed on his left side.  The doctors thought the stroke was not from high blood pressure but perhaps from a weaken vessel that could have gone anytime during his life. He always felt fortunate it had never burst during his time running track in high school or college or as an athletic director in the Navy. He was fortunate that the stroke spared his speech and mind. Despite the difficulties from the stroke, my Dad never complained. He had great faith and great acceptance. Sure he got frustrated, but never asked “Why me?”

My father had a wonderful, dry sense of humor, a good heart and a devilish enjoyment of teasing. He was a very proud Irish-American and was known to call the TV stations when he heard the term “Paddy wagon” used during a broadcast  of the news, as he felt that was a racial slur. My sister played “When Irish Eyes are Smiling” on her flute at his funeral.

My father had a successful career as an advertising executive. He told us he wanted to be an English teacher but figured he needed to make more money to support a family. Through stories I’ve heard, he apparently was the one they would call in to calm down angry clients. That’s where he and I are alike – I’m the one who is usually chosen to sit with the “offbeat” coworker or asked to come to a meeting when tensions are running high. We have a gift, or something, of diffusing a situation.

Today, as I remember my Dad, it is with a smile, not sadness. I’m fortunate to have had so many years with him. He could have been taken much earlier with the stroke.

From my IPod today, I could have picked something a bit more sentimental, but I’ve picked “A Boy Named Sue.” It’s a reminder that sometimes we don’t always understand the lessons we are being taught!