All Those Years Ago

So today is July 14 -- the birthday of my dear friend Mike, and our niece of another family Lauren, as well as our friend Norman's exotic foreign wife (she's Canadian), Deb. It's also, of course, Bastille Day, which we were reminded a LOT when we were recently in France.  But sadly for me, it's also the day my beloved Dad died -- now 36  years ago.

Last night I was at the bar at Trulucks, with Stu and John, pregaming for dinner at Christy's with Wifey, Mike and Loni.  Stu, John, and I are very much Daddy's boys -- our fathers loom huge in our lives.

Stu's is still very much with us -- in fact, he manages Stu's practice, and is in the office 4 days per week. Bill is 83. John had his father until John was in his 50s -- he lost him when John was married and with a daughter.

We were talking about how much losing (or having until our own advanced age, like Stu) informs so much of a man's life.  Hy died in my arms 4 days before I turned 21. It hit my sisters hard too, of course, but the older one was married with two kids, and the younger had a pale facsimile of a husband and a new baby son. I had an ex girlfriend -- broken up with half a year earlier, in the start of what became my annus horribilis, or horrible year. It fully sucked all around.

Ultimately, in my case, it caused a huge hunger for life -- to deny myself nothing, to put off nothing.  I lived like Steve Winwood suggested in song -- when you see a chance, take it. I did

I remember sleepwalking through my senior college  year -- feeling I was outside my body looking in.  I had to keep my mother on course -- learning and teaching her things like paying bills -- and applying for and getting into law school.

By the time law school was upon me, I was largely back, but laughed at the anxiety of my classmates -- "dying" when bad grades came. I shrugged things off -- hey, we were all mortal anyway -- and refused to give too many Fs about stuff.  Of course it's when I also met a blue eyed Israeli born 26 year old who would stand beside me and build a life with me -- which we still savor decades later.

I still think of my Dad each day -- sadly, when I yearn to have him have been able to meet my family, and maybe share in my somewhat absurd financial success.  His granddaughters are soaring -- I know he would have kvelled at that.  Of course, he also missed some deep family dysfunction -- and I'm thankful for that. As I say too often, about some stuff that has gone down -- "If Hy were alive to see this, it would have killed him."

I told Stu last night I was always happy for him -- despite his pitfalls in a life, his hero, his ultimate best friend Bill is very much with him -- as Stu nears 60!

My friend Norman is the only one of my really close friends so blessed -- Max is blessedly with us past 90. His kids, grandkids, and greatgrandkids all fight for his time and attention. He still very much takes care of his family, and not vice versa. I always joke that I wish to have whatever Max is having.

But Paul lost George right around the time I met him -- Paul was in his 30s. Barry lost Sy, and Eric lost Marvin, and more recently Jeff lost Norton. Mike lost Ed, also a great mentor to me, in 1994.

I found out recently that another mentor, also Ed, my former boss, is totally estranged from his son Bobby.  Bobby is arrogant and listens to no one, but part of me wants to go find him and shake him -- he still has a living father, and acts as if he's already dead.

A man who ignores his Dad -- to me he, as Don Corleone says, can never really be a man.

So I remember Hy very lovingly today -- all he gave me, and all he taught me during the 20 years I had him. Maybe I'll make it to the water and talk to him -- he purposely wanted to be cremated and placed in the ocean so anyone grieving would be surrounded by nature's beauty when visiting his "grave." He hated cemeteries.

I'll tell him about my family, and my life, and thank him, as I always do. But it'll still suck supremely that I lost him so young.