"It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was."--Anne Sexton
It has been almost ten years since my father passed away, and yet hardly a day goes by that I don't still think of him. He was not a man of great stature; he had neither fame nor great fortune. No one will ever name a building, a park, or a holiday in his honor. He did not lead armies or nations, patent inventions, cure diseases, compose music, or write poetry. That doesn't matter. What matters is that he was my father, and I loved him.
And so, on Father's Day, I remember my father Nick S.:
Dad had a wonderful sense of humor. He told stories that made others laugh--often at his own expense. He enjoyed a harmless prank now and then, and smiled even wider when a prank was carried out on him. His regard for humor was so great that even when he told us of his past--particular of his wartime experience as a P.O.W. in Germany--his stories highlighted moments of laughter.
Dad loved to sing. Every Sunday and church holiday, he would be in the choir loft at church singing bass. At home, he broke into song inspired by mundane acts of ordinary days. Helping us to put on our shoes or overshoes, he would sing, "Put your little foot, put your little foot, put your little foot right here." Waking us in the morning, he would lustily bellow his version of reveille: "You've got to get up; you've got to get up; you've got to get up in the morning!" At local talent shows, he entertained audiences with his rendition of the German nonsense song "Schnitzelbank."
Dad loved kids, and not just his own. For many years, he was the town's most remembered Santa Claus. Even when children recognized my dad's face through his false whiskers, they didn't feel let down. Nick S. simply was St. Nick at Christmas time.
Dad had a strong work ethic. All my life, he worked as a school janitor, but he went about his tasks with dignity and pride as if his job were as notable as that of an executive. In addition, he took on occasional odd jobs to support the family: construction and remodeling work; erecting grain bins; digging graves and caretaking at the cemetery. No job was too menial if the work needed to be done.
A quotation attributed to American priest and educator Theodore Hesburgh says that "the most important thing a father can do for his children is love their mother." Dad loved Mom, and that love enveloped his chilren and his grandchildren, who also treasure sweet memories of their grandpa Nick.
Happy Father's Day, Dad--whereverywhere you are.
