As different as fingerprints . . .

Very few know how to grow old, but my Dad did it well. He passed away August 25, 2014 at the age of 92, the last of his immediate family. There were no headlines, not even a funeral. Why? Because that's the way he wanted it. He saw himself as no different than anyone else, but everyone who knew him will treasure their own thoughts of him. And no, I can't compare him to any other "dad" because they're all as different as fingerprints. But I will say he was unique!

The outpouring that occurred upon his death did not surprise me. He touched many more lives than he ever knew, but he would scoff at that. He was a very unassuming guy. I watched him blossom in his later years from being a serious bread winner for his family, and caregiver for mom, to a thoughtful, fun-loving, expressive person . . . one who took on technology at a ripe old age, actively using an iPod, iPad, and an iMac. We were astounded that he was still diving off the dock and swimming, and displaying good driving skills. He loved to be around people, at my sisters', or here when he wintered in Prescott . . . game for anything, even the birthday saddle at Texas Roadhouse!

He was always mindful of his medical needs, baked a mean rhubarb or apple pie, played with his grands and greats as if he were their age, and ALWAYS sent "real" cards on birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries, and even Valentine Day. I will miss those cards.

We first three kids grew up with him in the late '40's through the '60's, a time when kids knew their parents cared because they were disciplined. Yes we were! But fairly. We had curfews and were required to come in their bedroom to tell them we were home. If we tried to fudge on the time, we heard about it! My parents continued that caring to "the two who came later". You might say they raised two families, but justice was dealt out equally, as was the fun. They made holidays and birthdays a big deal. 

As "his time" drew near, I know he thought even more about the love of his life, our mom.  He loved to tell the story of how they met, their courtship, and ultimate marriage, and saved her ashes to be joined with his. He suffered no pain his last few weeks, but was very uncomfortable. When the heart surgeon told dad the surgery could be successful, even at his age, dad said, "No, I've had a great life. I'm done." We were all saddened, but I so admired that. And thus began the journey to get him back to his hometown, and on his way. He was on a mission, so it didn't take long, and I'm sure he gave us the thumbs up when all of his wishes were followed :). Hard to think about considering that, just a short time before this, he was 92 going on 70. But, in the words of the song, he did it his way!

Having lost my three "majors" in the last 4 1/2 years, I have to say that this one has had the most profound affect on me. He was with me through all of my 66 years, always there, and it's causing me to re-evaluate the direction my life is taking in a way I never did before. And that could be a good thing . . .

I'll see you later, Dad! You've given us the ultimate gift of good times to remember.