Getting to really know my dad - what took me so long???

 



My father… my dad… who is he, what’s he like?    

First, I should mention that as of this date, (June, 2013) my dad is 90 years old – or 90 years young - whichever way you choose to view life. Born in 1922, he is the third child (first son) in a family of ten children. To hear him speak, you know he’s worked hard and ‘seen a few things’ throughout his life: Farm hand, carpenter’s apprentice/journeyman, United States soldier in WWII (Europe), firefighter (eventual Lieutenant) for the City of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin; husband, father, gentleman, golfer extraordinaire…  

He married my mother in 1949, and became her husband for 53 years and 11 months. Although she passed away in 2003, just shy of their 54^th wedding anniversary, he says he still thinks of her every day.

Board-by-board and nail-by-nail he built the house he still lives in today. Together, in that house, my parents raised four kids (of which I’m the youngest) – two boys and two girls.  

The truth is that, years ago, I really didn’t know my dad very well – I conversed more often with my mom. In my opinion, he came off with sort of a ‘hard as nails’ persona. Even when he wasn’t angry, he addressed me by using my full name, “Kathleen Mary…” It’s funny now as I look back because I realize this is the same man who purchased corsages every Easter for my mom, sister, and me. He was ‘present and accounted for’ at almost everything I ever did or participated in, even if he had to get a substitute for work. I think that his actions prove that he cared. (shakes head – Kathleen Mary…)

Through the years I’ve seen some softening where Dad’s concerned. I believe I understand him much better now that I have grown children of my own. I think that when a child is no longer the parents’ responsibility, the parents’ life situation eases, and they become much more relaxed. I’ve seen some of these changes first-hand with my own husband. And since my dad now calls me, “Kate,” I believe I make my point.

Back in 1980 my dad seemed to like my new boyfriend, Todd Memmel, pretty much from the start (as much as dads ever like boyfriends of any kind, that is). He commented, “Todd’s not a clock-watcher. He works hard and gives the boss his money’s worth. He’s not afraid to tackle a project…”  Well, Dad definitely called that one accurately. Dr. Freud could probably have a field day on the similarities between my dad and the man I married. Both hard-working to a fault, both honest, thoughtful, both men of integrity… I now believe I ‘lucked out’ on both counts – strong dad, strong husband... or should I say ‘I am blessed’ on both counts...?   

Over the past 30-some years, my father has always been around to lend a hand. He gave Todd and me welcome advice about buying our first house, and building our second. He proved willing to swing his hammer for whatever job was in the works – from roofs to decks to cabinet-building… The men in my life LOVE and cannot resist ‘new construction’ projects!

He bonded with both of my children, supplying them with good memories and loving feelings about their grandpa. Tony even wrote a song about my dad titled, “Soldier in London, 1943” Tale of an Underdog

But I believe that my respect for my father increased the most as I watched him care for my mother during her last years of life. She grew very confused with Alzheimer’s disease and could no longer reside in their home, doctor’s orders. So Dad drove to her new home and visited with her almost every day (at least six days per week) - even if for just a little while.

“Go ahead, Dad, get out for a while, go golfing! Take a day off! It will feel good,” we’d all encourage him. Everyone who’s dealt with an illness such as this knows how rough it can be on the caregiver. Sometimes he’d go, but often he’d check back in with Mom afterwards. There seemed to be little joy in his favorite activity, without her there to go home to.

As decisions needed to be made about Mom’s care and health issues, he took it step by step, day by day. Just as in other aspects of his life, as in everything he ever did, he worked hard, thought things through, gave the situation his all, and was faithful to the very end…

As time went on, it appeared that his relationship with God deepened. He often reflected, “Kate, I don’t know how people get through life if they don’t have any faith…”

I shook my head, and had to agree with him there. “I don’t know Dad, I don’t know…”  

Through the two and a half years that our family sat in a circle, conversing in my mother’s nursing home with whomever was present that particular day, something beautiful happened. I really got to know my dad. I witnessed first-hand the type of man he is. And I liked what I saw.

Is he flawed? Has he made mistakes? Yes…

But if you are reading this, wondering if good men still exist, I can honestly tell you that they do. Some of them have lived hard lives of work, and have calloused hands to prove it. Some have served their country in lands, foreign and domestic. Some have built their loved ones homes, from the ground up. Some have nurtured their families, taken their parenting jobs seriously, and come out the other side, with smiles on their faces. They walk their daughters down church aisles and end up helping their sons-in-law build houses for the next generation. Some men have loved deeply and laughed heartily, and grieved more than anyone will ever know, for the loves they still miss every single day.

And some men (my own dad) has done, and continues to do, all of these things.

Dad, I feel so blessed to have you in my life.

Have a blessed and happy Father’s Day!

“Kate”  <3  

 

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of the book, “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born With a Limb Difference. It is available through Amazon as both a Kindle download and as a paperback.