I'm in Calverton, NY (Long Island) coaching my club volleyball team.  It so happens my father is also in Calverton, when he passed in 1990, he was creamated (as requested) and put in the veterans cemetary down here. 

It was a gorgeous day for a short ride to the cemetary, when I reached the spot where my dad is entombed (sp?) I was the only one there.  It took me several minutes to find him on the wall, but then I found him directly ahead of where I was sitting.  There isn't much to do at this point but sit and reflect, so that's what I did, and that's what I'm doing here.

Only my oldest of friends actually knew my dad, out of my college friends only a few of them even met him.  He is a very hard man to describe.  On one side he was an army drill sgt (before I was born) who barked orders I imagine like the drill sgt's in the movies.  He was also a dispatcher for Greyhound Lines (bus company) and barked orders at drivers in the same fashion (this I got to witness first hand while working there).  The thing is though, the drivers loved him, he was loud, but never boistrous or obnoxious...he was stern, but always fair.  I feel very lucky to have worked with him for a few years and to see those relationships he had with his co-workers, it was respect, not only for my father, but by my father for his subordinates.

My father was also the greatest teacher I've ever had.  He's been dead for almost 17 years now and yet, he's somehow still teaching me.  He taught me to read, when my first grade teacher couldn't.  He wasn't a great athelete, but he taught me to play ball, and to play fairly and with passion.  One of my greatest regrets is that my father never got to see me play volleyball, it's such a big part of my life and probably one of my better skills...he would have been proud. 

My father also taught me so many life lessons, and I'm sure he didn't even know he was teaching them.  He grew up in a racially divided country in the 30's, 40's and 50's and I'm sure he was exposed to many racists and bigots througout his life, however, he made it clear through his actions that this was not tolerable.  He treated or tried to treat all equal, in both his actions and his words.  My father was also well ahead of his time in his marriage to my mother.  My father cooked most meals, shopped for all our food and did more then his share of the house cleaning ect... it's not that my mom wasn't capable or lazy, it's just that she worked in NYC (as did he) and didn't get home till after 7pm most night, so he just picked up the slack without a second thought. 

We were never rich, but I was never needy.  I never had the best of things, but I always had the things I needed.   My father was never the over effectionate type, but I always felt loved, there wasn't a day that he was alive that I didn't feel loved, and now, I still feel the same from my mom....I'm very lucky, when people talk of rough childhoods, I feel empathy, but I'll never know for sure what they are talking about because mine was so idealistic in many ways. 

Those who knew my father on a personal or non professional level noticed  his gentle nature and his kindness, I hope I can be so lucky one day to have people notice the same about me. 

As far as fathers go I wouldn't trade mine for any other, although I was only 23 when he passed, those 23 years will always be with me.  He was not only the greatest father I've known, he was the best man I've had the pleasure to know.