Dad...

Since it's Father's Day eve and everyone on Facebook is posting pix of their dad, I thought it fitting to say a little something about my dad....
He wasn't perfect.
Actually he was a very flawed man. He was the only child of his parents, who divorced when he was a toddler. Both remarried and both seemed to go on without him. They hired nannys and maids and sent him to military school, but clearly no one had time for him. So he built walls. Big walls. And no one could get through. Ever.
My dad never told me he loved me. Not even once. And nothing was ever good enough for him. Once I brought home a report card that didn't have all A's. Nope, I got a B in Physical Education. He glared at it, and threw it, and icily said, "Get the B off of there," and stormed off.
We learned to avoid him. You could set your watch by him, he was so Type A. He arrived home at 5:08 pm every day, so when it was 5:00, we all scattered and made sure we didn't cross his path. He never said much at home. He seemed really angry all the time. Except the weekends. He lived for the weekends. He loved hunting and fishing and boating, and we went somewhere every weekend. I'm not kidding. Every weekend. When I got older, I would stay with friends if there was an event I needed to go to. It was non-negotiable. Actually everything with my dad was non-negotiable. When he said no, he meant no. Forever. He wasn't changing. So we would make sure he didn't give a quick answer, because once he did, there was no going back.
My dad did have good qualities as well. Yes, he played Bad Cop to my mother's Good Cop, but that was actually helpful in the long run. I read once that a person's idea of God goes back to what their dad was like. Hmmmm. I do understand that God, although loving, is a very strict God, and there is right and wrong, black and white. My dad had very high expectations, and we were expected to meet them. This has taught me to set the bar high for myself. And my dad was extremely intelligent. I love that. My grandmother had him tested and he was deemed a "genius" by the tests he took at his very expensive schools. Gosh, he was never wrong. I bet him all the time, and I always lost. The man was just always right. That was annoying yet comforting somehow. My dad was extremely handsome, and he and my mother were always younger than their years and ahead of their time. The summer after my freshman year in college, my dad waterski'd in the coastal bay - he was an expert water skier. And he was manly. There was nothing sissy about dad. Somehow he reminded me of John Wayne, although he was a city boy.
My sophomore year in college my father had a massive stroke at the age of 46. As a matter of fact, when people called the hospital that night, they were told he had died. It took him a year to relearn how to talk, and although his right side was paralyzed, he refused a wheelchair always, and learned to drag that side of his body. He was never the same. We had to tell him that he loved steaks and Chivas. I don't know if he ever remembered that or just faked it that he remembered.
But he was still my dad. Flaws and all. And I loved him. And still do.
Miss you Dad...