The memories continue!

Two relationship memories stand out involving my dad. The first, prior to getting married the first time at 23 after being engaged at 21, my dad talked to me in the driveway of the house and asked if I was sure about what I was doing. Not that marrying this particular person was a bad idea, but that I could be single, living in Chicago with a good job. Maybe I would be happier. Of course I was pretty pissed as any ignorant 21 year old male would be. That was one time that he offered sound advice.

The other relationship memory involved, ironically, the woman I started seeing after my divorce from the woman that my dad questioned me marrying. We had been dating for a while, maybe six months or so, and after one particular visit to my parents’ house, I noticed that my dad was basically ignoring my girlfriend. He wouldn’t talk to her specifically if he could avoid it and sometimes talked over her. The next day I called him up and said, this is bullshit. If you continue to act like this when I bring her over, I’ll stop coming over. Another month goes by, I go over to a family gathering at their house with my girlfriend and he pulls the same crap. When I get home, I call my parents and tell them I will not be coming home for Thanksgiving that year (the next scheduled family event). In 52 years, that was the only Thanksgiving I haven’t been home for. The next day my mom called and said my dad would be better for the next visit. I said if he’s not, I’m not coming home for Christmas either. Apparently she raised holy hell with him at that prospect after already being pissed at him about Thanksgiving. He’d done similar things with my siblings, but I was the only one to nip it in the bud. Ever since that holiday season though, we had a much different, better relationship dynamic. He seemed to respect me more and as women came and went in my life, he fully supported my decision with each of them. He was excited and happy when they arrived and lamented their loss when they were gone, exactly what I needed from him.

Other memories of my dad. There are so many it’s tough to narrow down. We played catch with the baseball and football out in the side yard in Naperville more times than I can remember. I would practice pitching to him, he’d throw grounders and we’d just toss the football. It’s tough to remember if we talked about anything at the time other than what we were actually doing, but I’m sure there was talk of the Sox, Cubs, Tigers, Lions and Steelers (I hadn’t converted to a Bears fan yet). Much of the reason I was able to play baseball and then softball until I was almost 50 was because of that time early on, getting reps in the side yard with pops.

My dad wasn’t always active though. He loved a cold house in the summer, well below 70 degrees, and I often had to wear sweatpants around the house to keep warm, despite oppressive heat outside! When the Cubs would come on in the afternoon, 1:20 of course, if his paperwork was done, my dad would take up residence in his favorite chair in front of our 1979 Magnovox that would be a staple for the next 40 years (ironically to be replaced on his birthday/Christmas by us kids with a new tv, but he passed away before getting to see it). Not long into the game, the sound of the game would be drowned out by the snoring of my napping dad. That scene was as much a part of my childhood as any scene I can remember.