REMEMBERING

February 14 is Valentine’s Day for most of us. It is also the day that Pa died.  It is a time for remembering.

Pa was the most loving man I ever knew-- with two exceptions…his son, my Beloved and his grandson, my beloved son.  From the first time he met me – how I remember that day!—he extended both arms, and embraced me, saying, “My daughter.” 

From that first day to the last, he always met me with that hug that reaffirmed his love and acceptance of me.  As loving as my Daddy was, he did not greet me like that!

Pa was David’s first caregiver. When my practice of taking him to work with me at the Family Practice center where I was finishing up my residency was curtailed, we turned to Pa.  At that time he was home alone during the day; Ma was (in her late 70’s herself) was a caregiver to the “old people” who came to the adult day care center where she worked.

Every morning I would deliver Beloved son to Pa’s waiting arms. He would carry David around the yard, showing him the birds and telling him stories that only they shared. I was torn at the beginning: David would practically leap into Pa’s arms and he did not give me even a parting glance! Later, of course, I was incredibly grateful that my treasure was guarded by someone who loved him as much as I did.

There was a two-hour break between morning and afternoon office hours. I had the privilege of spending that time with my son. It was a gracious transition; having that two hour window with him soothed to a degree the ache of not having him with me all day as I had before.

I can’t pretend to tell you how he did it, but the men who were raised by him absorbed from him tenderness, gentleness, and his loving demeanor. He was fiercely devoted to his family; generous and industrious to a fault; yet, he was the humblest of men.

He left an incredible legacy: his fingerprints on the character of his son, his grandson, and his nephew. They are men like him.