Missing Mr. Small

I completely forgot today was Fathers Day.

No longer needing to remind my son to call his dad on this day and his birthday, no longer having my dad around to say things to, this becomes just another day.  Mothers Day is a bit different (my mom died 5 years before my dad) because I have my precious and only child, my son, who always makes Mothers Day something special.

Each time there is a special day that many people celebrate, I am reminded over and over just how fortunate those are that have their loved ones here with them.  I lived in Taiwan in the 80's, and both my parents (who were divorced) and I stayed as close as when I was in the U.S.  We made it happen.  No computers, texting, no instant anything.  Long-distance (expensive) phone calls from land lines, and snail mail was it.  Taiwan is 15 hours ahead of California, calling was challenging and had to be prearranged to work for each side of the world.

I felt like the most fortunate daughter in the world when my dad called and told me that he was coming over to Taipei for business.  He worked for Ford Aerospace his entire life as a contract administrator, overseeing billion dollar defense contracts with U.S. allies.  (I was the only fourth grader I knew that brought a reel to reel film of a tank shooting ballistic missiles for show and tell).

(Photo credit: Lif...)

I was busy studying Mandarin Chinese and working as a model in Taiwan and Hong Kong when my dad came over, along with some other Ford employees, and took great delight in telling me about going to a local department store.  They were all going up the escalator and one of his coworkers said something about 'the pretty American girl in the poster'.

My dad looked over and said, "That's my daughter", and when

he was telling me this, the gleam in his amazing green eyes was bright.  That was in 1986. I had my son that year in Taiwan.  He sure loved his 'Papa Web'.  

In 1995, I was a Hospice nurse by profession and a full-time nursing student when I took care of my father when he was put on Hospice.  He had colon cancer (as his mother did) that had metastasized to his liver.

I was given the amazing gift of taking care of both my mother and my father during their last days here.  Once, after gently wrapping my dad's swollen, weeping legs, I leaned over and said, "you're the best patient I've ever had", and my dad responded in a soft whisper, "you're the best nurse I've ever had honey".

These words I will treasure forever.

Inscribed on the granite stone with a bodysurfer on a wave, remembering my champion athlete dad, my younger brothers and I chose: Our Friend, Our Father.

Miss you Dad.      


Gentle Hugs....(and give your father some on this day.... if it is possible)