Dad always started his explanations with, “You have to understand.” Well, here are some things you have to understand about Dad:
You have to understand that Dad was a pragmatic optimist. He encouraged all of us to focus on the solution rather than the problem. When on the golf course, he often told Mom or Nate that the hole or any goal in life was “just a chip and a putt away.” Whenever any of us faced a challenge, he was usually our first phone call. He’d softly lead us to a resolution, outlining a step-by-step action plan and consistently following up with us to discuss any progress and assure us that everything would be okay. His calm demeanor and measured actions enabled so many people to feel supported and confident when approaching any conflict.
You have to understand that Dad was the biggest fan of sports, especially Ohio/Cleveland teams—the Buckeyes, Browns, Cavaliers, and Indians. When we were growing up, he played basketball with Billy, Brian, and me in the driveway and helped train us individually by tossing a softball or baseball at varying heights. He relished seeing us perform on the field, mat, or track. Since he traveled for work, an immense sense of pride and joy always overcame me when I’d look over to the sidelines and see him cheering me on during a soccer game. I’m sure our nephews, Donovan and Shea, have felt similarly when their grandpa was able to see them earn a run, catch a fly ball, or strike out a batter. Beyond watching his children and grandchildren play, Dad loved to watch college and professional sports. We’d attend an Indians or Cubs game almost every summer, enjoying not only the players’ efforts, but also the atmosphere and each other’s company. One of our fondest memories with Dad was watching and celebrating the Cavs’ 2016 NBA Championship. We happened to be down in North Carolina at the time, on one of our traditional beach trips. It was undoubtedly a once-in-a-lifetime moment; we were in shock, unable to believe what we had just witnessed. I can still hear our cheers and sense our high-fives and hugs. Discussing sports was one of his favorite pastimes. Dad would listen to talk radio and watch various ESPN shows, reveling in the announcers’ arguments over possible future decisions players or coaches faced. Nate, Dad, and I furthered these debates in person, and, of course, he’d start many of his points with, “You have to understand.”
You have to understand that Dad loved music. On our last visit home, he insisted on watching the movie Yesterday, even though Mom and he had just recently watched it. He loved the Beatles’ music so much he wanted to share it with us. And, boy, did he love to dance. Whether it was at a wedding, golf tournament reception, or in the middle of the kitchen, Dad would grab Mom, me, or another female relative and tear up the dance floor. Even without a dance partner, I imagine him moving his shoulders, bobbing his head, and saying, “funky,” as he often did, whenever a classic, upbeat song played. He and I specifically enjoyed Stevie Wonder’s music. We’d dance around the family room, singing, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours).” I have always loved that song because I know that, as his little girl, I will always be his.
You have to understand that Dad lived to eat, not ate to live. While I don’t quite remember it myself, a common story told by Mom and Dad recalled how Mom and I had just made a large batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies, but Mom wanted to store some in the hallway closet, mainly because Dad tended to inhale them. Well, as soon as Dad got home, I stood right in front of that closet with my arms outstretched in front of the door and said, “Daddy, we didn’t make any cookies.” Needless to say, he found the stash of cookies. While Mom baked, Dad loved to grill and his affinity for cooking grew over the years, especially once he retired. For the last two Christmases, we made homemade pasta, experimenting with different noodles and sauces. He was open to many different foods, especially while traveling, but always had his favorites. Embracing his Irish roots, he always enjoyed a meat-and-potato meal. And, over the last twenty years or so, Mom and Dad added wine to this typical menu. His eyes would light up when choosing a wine to pair with a meal at home or reviewing a wine list at a restaurant. Even though his appreciation of wine was great, we all know that a glass of good scotch truly quenched his thirst. During each of our visits home, Nate and Dad would sit out in the garage drinking scotch and smoking cigars. Although Dad always enjoyed good food and drink, he loved the company more; meals or drinks, along with dancing, were his favorite ways of bringing people together. For this reason, we know that Dad will forever be celebrating with us, no matter the occasion.
You have to understand that Dad could make anyone laugh. If you have ever interacted with Dad for more than 10 minutes, he probably told you a story and probably a story you had already heard. He loved comedy; he’d watch slapstick movies, listen to comedy satellite radio stations, and attend stand-up shows, frequently repeating the jokes to everyone and anyone. When he’d visit me in Chicago, we’d often go to see Shakespeare Improv. It always seemed to me that Dad aspired to be on stage with an improv troupe or within a comedy show’s lineup. However, he never needed a formal stage. His humor impacted everyone he ever met and will live on every time we tell any funny story or ridiculous joke.
You have to understand that Dad believed happiness is not dependent on any wealth or status you may acquire, but rather based in the relationships you build with those you love. He notoriously did not like to have his picture taken; I truly think this is because he lived in the moment, desiring to be ever-present. We know that our relationships with our loved ones have already been strengthened over this trying time. Furthermore, as we get married and start a family, we know that our connection with Dad will continue to grow. While he will not be able to physically dance with us at our wedding or hold our children in his arms, we know that he will be guiding us through all of our new adventures.
Jess & Nate
3 Responses
You have to understand, Bill and I, along with many others, have very fond memories celebrating life together. From watching our daughters play soccer together, celebrating Brian’s 21st birthday golfing at Weymouth, ( I believe Brian may have been over served on the course that day, and Listening to Bill sharing stories about his grand children.