Thoughts About My Dad

I wish I had time to write about the so many wonderful things I did with my dad. Many of my very best memories are with my dad in the ocean. The beach was more than a place for my dad to go, it played a guiding role in his life as it has in mine. I'll never forget that evening when I was about 10 when the surface of the water was glassing off just as the sun was setting. Most of the crowds had gone home and we had the south end of the Dana Strand mostly to ourselves and we just rode wave after perfect wave. When I want to recall a moment of unfettered joy in my life, that moment is up towards the very top.

My dad liked maps. He could sit in front of a topo map of some place in the Sierra Nevada and relive the memories of a past adventure or dream about where he would like to hike next. He loved looking at the lines on a map and seeing where they led and where they intersected and calculating all of the options available to plot out just the right route. I always had the sense that this interest hit at something more broad and fundamental than topo maps. I think my dad sought out lines and guideposts to add order to his world. I often wonder if this is what attracted him to accounting - a field with rules and fixed percentages. My dad was very proficient at plotting a course and helping us navigate through the minutiae of life: negotiating salaries, obtaining loans and saving money just to name a few. To quote my uncle Mike, my dad was a very useful person.

My dad loved numbers. He would enjoy counting the ceiling tiles of a movie theater. When I would tell him about a run or ocean swim that I took, he wanted to know the water temperature, how far I went and how long it took me. Do you want to know the tides of the day? Of course you do. Well ask my dad and he could tell you the exact times and measurements of the day's highs and lows. My dad was one of the few people in my world to whom I could say something like, "hey it's gonna be a 6.9 this afternoon" and that would actually mean something to him and he would be glad to discuss it. I feel like all of these numbers served as additional markers on the map that let him know where he was in the world.

There was a time, probably about 20 years ago, when he commented about how we both view the world so differently. He saw the world in black and white opposites and my world was much more grey. He said this without any judgement or condescension but simply as a point of fact. He was right. I always felt like my dad looked out onto the world and saw a grid-like structure of natural and financial and religious laws and he had confidence that as long as you stick to the solid lines, you are poised for success.

I can remember as a younger man being frustrated by my dad's map. I seemed to discover vast swaths of territory that were missing from the map or there might be areas where what I saw on his map did not seem to align with what I was actually seeing in front of me. Then later I learned that to a large extent we are all just making our own maps. My map has a lot more dotted lines than my dad's maps. It totally makes sense to me why my dad was so attracted to his particular way of looking at the world. It worked for him and he could make it work for others. Many of you are here because my dad helped you to navigate these pathways and he did so with kindness and integrity.

I don't know how to broach this next topic but I feel like I need to. My brother had tremendous difficulty remaining on the lines of my dad's map. My brother and my dad stared out into the distance and saw a completely different horizon. One might say my brother was more interested with the spaces in between the lines and I don't think my dad had much interest or patience in acknowledging some of those spaces. His map had either nothing to say about those spaces or advised against treading on them. I do know this: my dad loved and cared for my brother very much. Perhaps I wonder if there were spaces in my dad's own heart unaccounted for on his map. What if my dad could have better tended to these spaces and allowed himself to stray just a little further from the lines? I wonder if he might have found a place where he and my brother could have shared more space together.

So the day my dad passed I felt compelled to go swim in the ocean. It's something I have come to love doing and was often a topic of conversation between me and my dad. So I am in the water and I'm looking for some kind of sign from my dad. I didn't see any flashes of light or butterflies or sea turtles. It was a pretty normal swim. The thing that was not normal was that this was the first swim we would never talk about. As I became aware of this absence, it was then that his presence seemed to shine through. I suddenly felt like my dad was right with me.

I wish I could still talk with my dad in the realm of my own time and space, but I can feel him with me all the time now and especially at the beach. Our relationship continues. I don't totally understand the mechanics of this and I don't really care to. All I can know for sure is what I feel. I feel my dad with me and I gladly receive that feeling with gratitude and I cherish it in my heart.

Right now, where my dad is, it can't be found on any map. I believe my dad now possesses a field of vision much wider than what I can see from here. I believe my dad now travels in a love much more full and knowing and forgiving than any kind of love I can fathom. I like to think that my dad is becoming proficient in filling the spaces in between the lines. My hope and prayer is that my brother can meet him somewhere in those spaces. I may not be one who abides certainty easily but one thing I do know: I will see my dad again. We will find a beach where the water sits like glass beneath a setting sun and we will ride wave after perfect wave into eternity.