One father has died,
but eight fathers are being mourned. This is the way it is when someone passes.
In the case of our father, it is magnified
by the complexity of the man.
He truly had many facets. He was the smartest man I knew, growing up
(Maybe only because back then
my brother John wasn’t a man yet).
His range of interests was broad, and deep: an appreciation of music, especially
Classical music and opera.
A love of Literature, especially science fiction. And of course his lifelong career in Science itself,
his contributions to the development of anisotropic media.
He had a creative side,
was an accomplished draftsman,
a maker of mobiles and groovy wall decorations.
He was a competent woodworker
and even patioscaper. And of course everyone knows his humorous side,
his relentless puns. He also had a sportive side,
including Golf, Hunting, and Fishing. He enjoyed tinkering on cars and over his lifetime
owned an impressive stable of roadsters,
sedans, and even a boat.
(Ah, that damned boat...) He was not a luxurious man,
in fact I would call him spartan if he hadn’t
lived in a five-thousand-square-foot house. He was not a physically vain man,
and delighted in buying his entire wardrobe
at the flea market. But we all agree he was a stoic:
He would have to be in real agony before
you would hear him mention any pain.
Some of us knew Dad when he was quite young,
others remember him best after
older siblings had moved elsewhere. He loved to spend time with his grandchildren,
even when Alzheimer’s dementia began to afflict him
and he could no longer participate as fully as before.
This, even though he must have known it would
diminish his stature. But that affliction did have the surprising effect
of softening the sharp edge of his intellect,
of making him into a gentler and more empathetic man. He had never learned how to say “I love you”
in so many words to any of us.
But in the end, in the midst of his strokes and his rapid decline,
we got to see him open himself up to all of us,
hold each of our hands and really listen to us.
And to show us his love in a way
we had never seen from him. Dad, I love you.
(I guess it's okay to say that, now.)