My own father and I don't speak, its by my choice. I don't consider him a father, more of a name on a birth certificate. That's where I consider the responsibility ending on his part. Not for legal purposes, more so by his actions.
Hearing the news about my friend's father passing made me remember my friend Dennis. Soon after I moved to the US in 1993, I was lucky to get a job with Air Canada, where I met Dennis and also my friend who suffered last night's bereavement.
Dennis and I hit it off and became close friends. He was 25 years older than me so could have been the same age as my real father (was only five years behind in fact). Dennis had good qualities, great qualities....and some bad qualities. I have learned that I am taking the good and the great and I'll acknowledge the bad although I know I won't repeat the bad....
I met Dennis in 1994, he was my friend, actually he still is my friend. He passed away on July 4th, 2009. He has been my friend through a divorce, a relocation to Tennessee and many changes in between.
He wasn't my father but I learned a lot from him only because he had been through many experiences himself before and was able to impart personal knowledge rather than fluffy bullshit that some do.
I miss him every day, and there's one thing I miss more than most and that is that I can't call him on the way home from work. I used to call him, sometimes for five minutes, sometimes for thirty minutes, but he'd always answer the call and make time for me no matter what he had going on.
He never met my daughter, he had planned to come to Nashville in mid-July 2009 and had heard my daughter's voice on the phone, but he never met her. I would have been so proud to have him meet her, he would have seen his spirit in her I'm sure.
I miss Dennis every day. He wasn't my father, and to me that doesn't matter. I have a father but my father absolved himself from his responsibilities very early and after we met, Dennis assumed the role of advisor, counselor and probably most of all, a non-judgemental listener. Dennis used to always wish he wasn't right about some things, because he knew it was not what I wanted to hear. But only because he had been through it himself, he knew his outcome would be the one I would see in that particular situation.
I wish everyone would have a father like Dennis, he has two wonderful daughters who can claim that. I don't claim anything other than I was lucky to know him. If I had to pack a backpack for a journey through life, I would want his spirit in it.
I don't know that this would console my friend in the loss he is experiencing, perhaps it will go someway towards doing so. Sometimes there are people we will meet who will touch us along the way, and we need to remember that they do, because otherwise we will be approaching the future empty-handed.
Je suis sur que ton pere te manque dans ces jours la. J'espere que sa memoire, et surtout les bons moments dont vous en avez eu ensemble, t'aide un peu parmi les emotions vraiment difficiles que tu vis en ce moment.