Fatherly Lessons

For the last ten years, October has been a bittersweet month for me. As nature slowly closes up shop and gives out its last gifts, the calendar reminds me that the beginning of the month is my father’s birthday and the end of the month is his death day. And in the middle, I celebrate my partner’s birthday! All these dates are just numbers but they ring in my head as they pass by.

Though my father no longer lives his days on earth, I continually realize his ongoing impact (one of his favorite words!) on my life. I often perceive it in subtle ways. And every now and then, he visits me in my dreams, a sure sign that he still has a hold on me. 

Shortly after his death, I had one particular dream that let me know his presence. I dreamt that I was riding in a car with him and, all of a sudden, it dawned on me that this couldn’t be since he was dead. When we got out of the car, I looked at him and said, “Hey, you aren’t supposed to be here. You’re dead!” Instantly, his bodily form crumbled into nothing, leaving behind the pile of clothes he had been wearing. Stunned, I took a breath, trying to regroup and think of what to say. But before any words came out, the clothes regrouped and filled out and my father was back beside me. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll always be here beside you.” And, as he said in my dream, he is.

I learned from him that I should never assume things. He taught me to ask hard questions, look at situations from all possible perspectives, get to the bottom of it. Find out why things are the way they are, stay informed, review new facts as they come in but also use history as a guide. He modeled how to interact with others: every person has value, every person has a story. On his last day, when his energy was low and hospital staff came and went around his emergency room bed, he still asked their names, tried to make a connection, took the focus off of himself. I think part of this constant curiosity was his desire to learn from every situation, no matter when or where.

So as another year passes, as I live past these dates that pop up, I try to remember these lessons. One needs to see and know the small details to have a broad perspective. As I watch the leaves fall, I recall his wonder at the fall colors. Just like him, I find myself collecting one of every possible leaf shape and color, soaking in the beauty and intricacies of the natural world while amassing tangible information. And as the trees let go of their hold on the leaves, I cling to the memories of these fatherly lessons that are still very much part of me.