The Dad Day

I'm having kind of an unproductive week with the circus around Lambeau bringing me down. I'm infuriated over the front office of the Green Bay Packers. I'm bewildered by the amount of what is apparently ego and pride that is preventing the return of Brett Favre to the Packers. It's all very consuming if you let it be. And I let it be. In the midst of that all-consuming frustration and anger, I forgot a very important date yesterday.

It's not like five years ago when a big shooting star marked this day for me after an evening with my girlfriends who happily toasted with me. Nope, yesterday was all about listening to sports radio, ranting via this blog, and getting to work on time. After work, I got a call from my ex-husband. He didn't waste any time telling me his bad news. His dad, who he had a strained relationship with, died last night. We knew it would happen soon, so it wasn't really a big shock, but it is still a stark reality when it does happen.

Pa, as we called him, was always pretty good to me, even if he wasn't stellar with his son. We kept in touch after the divorce, just as I keep in touch with my ex-husband. I seldom burn any bridges, so it's not uncommon for me to remain part of that family. I still have their last name, and I still consider them to be part of my family. I'm sad to hear of the news of Milton's passing, but I realize that Pa had a very long life. We even chuckled a little during the short conversation since we both know that Pa escaped death several times. He battled colon cancer, and won. He survived a car crash that killed his wife. He had two hip replacements as a result of that crash, and has walked with a rod in his leg since then. I'm sure he used up a few other lives in the years before I knew him. There's the stories of him driving home (moons ago, of course) after being at the bar when a cop would pull him over and tell him that he shouldn't be driving. The cop would give him a ride home to make sure he made it safely. LOL, it's not that way anymore, is it?

So next week, I will assume the role of the wife of Dean once more, and be part of the family who will honor the patriarch. I'll survive the pseudo pleasantries with the sister I loathe. I'll banter with the youngest brother of my ex-husband with whom we always spent so much time. Perhaps his ex-wife will attend too--it's just that kind of family.

It was several hours after this phone call bearing the news of my father-in-law's death that I realized what July 31st also means to me! It was my dad's birthday yesterday. I can't believe it slipped from my memory. There are so many dates around this time of the year. Next Thursday is the anniversary of his death. Monday is the anniversary of my parents' wedding.

It occurred to me how odd it is that one dad died on another dad's birthday. Life is like that, I guess. And it happens in the midst of the other perceived dramas that play out in our mundane lives. Next week will bring a focus on dads again. It's good to remember where we came from and where we've been. For that, I thank those dads who have been in my life. I honor you today, tomorrow, next week, and forever.

Rest in peace, Pa. Rest in peace, Daddy.