I wrote this piece on Father's Day, 2009. It's the last one I'm going to share about my dad. All of the pieces I wrote regarding his death are among my favorites. They're a living history of a time in my life that was, well, life changing. This one's my favorite. I read it at my father's memorial service a few days later. There's a post script for this one, so check it out at the end.
The Last Gift
Father’s Day is coming. It’ll be the first Father’s Day without dad, and it feels extra sad because next Saturday, June 20th, is his memorial. We never had a funeral for him, so this is as close as we’re going to get to one. As the oldest of the six children, and the teacher/writer in the family, I’m supposed to speak at the service, to eulogize my father.
All along, I had planned to read excerpts from my tribute to him, but it’s kind of long and the church is says that there may not be time for it. They’re going to let us know beforehand, so I figured I’d share one last remembrance of dad that I can keep short:
Dad had become totally disabled from work in November of last year. He became bedridden with an infection in his foot that forced him to retire from work and give up the keys to his car. Ultimately, he spent his days in bed, in front of the television. One day early on, dad was flipping through the channels and came upon QVC. He was hooked!
One Sunday night at dinner, mom called dad out of his bed to come to the dinner table. Dad came out, settling down and waiting for everyone else to be in their seats. With a knowing smirk, he pulled out a small box. It was a set of a matching necklace and earrings for mom.
“Oh George, they’re beautiful!”
Dad just smiled. He was happy. Though the jewelry wasn’t really that nice, mom pretended to like them for him. This would be the first of the many bejeweled gifts dad would bestow upon members of the family. Rings for one sister. Earrings for another. More necklaces for mom. Dad definitely had a problem!
One Sunday night, not long before he passed, dad had asked me if I liked “those kinds of watches…you know, with the chain”, he said, pointing his fingers towards his shirt pocket.
“You mean a pocket-watch?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Do you like those? You wear em?”
I was very nonchalant about what he was saying. I wasn’t looking for a gift that I really didn’t want, so I kind of shrugged him off, reminding him that since I became a teacher, I’d stopped wearing suits to work (I used to work in a bank.), so I really had no use for a one. The conversation moved elsewhere and I never gave it another thought.
Dad kept “QVCing” right through until the time he died. During a visit with him during his next to last hospital stay, he was showing me computers that were on sale on the shopping channel. They were over $900. I wanted to tell him he could get one from Best Buy or someplace for only $299, but he was kind of into it, they came in different colors and were in their own carrying case. I let him go on. After he went back to the hospital, a rotisserie oven and a juicer were delivered to the house. Dad had found a new line of products to peruse and purchase.
The night after dad died, I took my nephew, Nicholas, to his school for a charity function. He asked me to take him, so I did, even though I really just wanted to be at mom’s house with the rest of the family. It was kind of frustrating, but we had a good time. After the show, I took Nick home and headed back to my mom’s house. There had been some food delivered from a family friend and I hadn’t eaten yet.
I walked in the door, tired but relieved to be back there finally. Mom was alone on the couch in front of the TV. The first thing she said to me was that there was something on the dining room table for me. “What is it?” I asked, walking over towards the table. Before she could answer, I saw the box.
“That’s for you.”
“What is it?”
“Just open it.”
The box was long, and black, kind of fancy. I reached down with curiosity, having no idea what it could be or who it could be from. I opened it up and there it was. It was the last gift my father would ever give to me. The pocket-watch! He’d already bought it for me the night he’d asked me about it, weeks earlier. When I said I hadn’t needed one, he just kept the secret it to himself. He’d never even told mom. That’s how dad was, humble, meager and full of love. I miss him!
Happy Father’s Day!
Post Script -
About a month after I wrote this piece, I went to Atlantic City with my mom and my sisters and I lost the watch. I was carrying it in a bag I had with me and the bag broke at the bottom, dropping the watch somewhere in a casino. I felt terrible, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.
After we got home I went into my mom's house for a bit. While I was there I went in mom and dad's room to look around at some of his stuff that we had been going through. I came across a watch, one that he had bought for himself that he never wore. It was cool...the band was made of rubber and looked like a tire and the face was sporty. I grabbed it and took it home with me.
Now, almost two years later I'm still wearing that watch. A friend of mine once said that he didn't want me to have the pocketwatch because I didn't want it in the first place, so he left me this one instead. Thanks dad!
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