November 17, 2018. The day my dad died.
It’s been exactly 12
months. It’s still fresh. And SO much else has happened in the same
year.
Dad driving our boat, The Shansu, circa 1983. This is how I remember him from summers growing up - at the wheel of the boat. |
I know that “time
heals”. I know that, at some point, I
will feel November 17th creeping up on the calendar and it won’t
bring as much malaise and sadness as I am experiencing now. I know that some time – years or maybe a
decade later – I will be able to take time out of “real life” to celebrate
Johnny Day just like I celebrate Mary Day every October 20th. But this year it all still feels quite raw
and painful.
I still have flashbacks to
this time last year. I am currently
living in a basement bedroom – the same set up I was in when the hospital
called in the middle of the night to tell us Dad had coded. Last night I decided to confront some of the
sadness head on – I wanted to deliver dozens of donuts to nurses to thank them
for their work, and I chose the hospital where he had been treated (at the same
time as my sister) to pass the treats out.
Just parking in the parking lot again, entering the emergency room doors
(the main doors were locked), and getting off the elevator on the cardiac floor
made the sad memories flash through my mind again.
I still want to call him
and talk – just to hear his voice really.
I want to tell him the news of my life – both happy and sad. I want to make him laugh with stories of how
long it took to replace our front steps, make him proud to hear of how I dealt
with an insurance company, and make him smile to see me playing Yahtzee with
his wife Evelyn.
Dad and his daughters, just 3 months before he died. |
But I can’t do any of
those things. So, I go to his grave,
talk, and cry. And I remember.
And I start a new
holiday. A holiday I wish I didn’t have
to celebrate, but am going to start the new tradition anyway.
Mom, Dad, and I with the boat, circa 1971 |
Welcome to JOHNNY
DAY. It’s a holiday celebrated every
November 17th. I will
celebrate it by doing things my dad loved, things that remind me of him.* Things like:
·
Going to Keno
·
Fishing – well,
really helping OTHER people fish (cuz with 3 daughters in the boat he barely
ever got his line in the water…)
·
Leaving a really
big tip for a server
·
Buying a
Powerball ticket
·
Wearing a sweater
(and penny loafers if I ever get a pair)
·
Teaching a
teenager how to drive in an empty parking lot
·
Climbing up a
ladder onto a roof
·
Helping a
stranger change a flat tire
·
Spilling the
beans on a secret I was supposed to be keeping (loose lips sink ships…)
·
Singing “Singing
in the Rain” while taking a shower
·
Buying several
warm winter coats for kids I have never met who don’t have coats for winter
·
Planting tomatoes
·
Going to a car
dealership and trading in my vehicle right then and there for a brand new
one. No research. No comparing.
Just DO IT (and getting a great deal of course)**
·
Using voice to
text to compose a message and NOT proofreading it before hitting “send”
·
Drinking a nice
glass of red wine (preferably filled very high)
·
Doing a polka
·
Being extra
patient
·
Carrying a handkerchief
in my pocket instead of a Kleenex
·
And yelling
“Tradition” while raising my arm, ala Fiddler on the Roof
Dad with his tomato plants |
And here is how YOU can
celebrate. (It would do my heart good if
you do.) If you are lucky enough to have
a father who is still alive, you could:
·
Call your
dad. Not a text – pick up the phone and
call him. Really listen to his
voice. Burn it into your memory. There will be a time when you do not have the
luxury of dialing his number anymore.
·
Write your dad a
letter and mail it. Trust me, he will
read it. He might even squirrel it away
in his desk or nightstand, leaving it for you to find when you have to clean
out his house. (Trust me, that will make
cleaning out the house nicer. You will
smile to remember writing it, and be so happy he thought so much of it that he
saved it.)
·
Buy your dad a
sweater and give it to him. Does he NEED
a sweater? Hell no!! He has drawers and drawers full of them. But still, surprise him with one. He will be happy.
·
Go visit your
dad. Sit across from him and talk. And before you leave, give him a big
hug. (And during the hug, take a big
sniff of him. Smell him. Remember that smell – you will miss it
later.)
If you are a father or
grandpa, here is how you can celebrate:
·
Buy your kid or
grandkids something. Buy them
anything. A doll. A coat.
A flat of flavored water. And
GIVE IT TO THEM. Don’t save it for
Christmas or their birthday.
And if you, like me, no
longer have a father on this earth, please take time on Johnny Day to remember
your dad. Think about what he did to
make you laugh. How he looked at
you. The jokes he told, the things he
said. Visit his grave. Give him flowers.
But most importantly,
whether your father is alive or not, be THANKFUL for him.
Happy Johnny Day.
Here is a special treat. It is a video I made of Dad. It was for a film I was making of my sister Annette's friends dancing to the song "Brave". I had already filmed Dad dancing, and this part was supposed to be a cool addition to the film - him shooting off a confetti cannon. It didn't go as we had planned... Video at this link:
**2nd
note: But I really cannot imagine I will
EVER be decisive enough to waltz into a dealership on Johnny Day and buy a
brand new car on the spur of the moment…
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