Happy Father's Day

I wanted to write something today in honor of my father, who is 96 1/2 and still going strong. Not a day goes by that I don't think how fortunate I have been to have him in my life, for so much of my life, and for his remarkable vigor. His longevity and health owe a lot to the genes he inherited, and to good luck, but even more so, I think, to the care he's taken to stay in good physical shape his whole life. He survived WWII, as a tank driver in Patton's army in Europe, and came home to marry and become a father and a businessman. When I was little, he still smoked, but he stopped and immediately became consumed with physical fitness - I think he was one of the first people in our small town to become a dedicated runner, at a time when you were laughed at for doing such a thing. He''s a natural athlete, and eventually took up table tennis as his particular sport, which culminated in several appearances in the National Senior Games where he won the national title in his age group, after two knee replacements. He had one hip replaced as well. He still played competitively until a couple of years ago; still drives; still lives independently with his partner of the past twelve years who is, herself, remarkable for her age.

(c) Aaron Levinsky, National Senior Games, 2015

I am an only child, and wasn't particularly athletic, except for being a good swimmer, and later, someone who really enjoyed small boat sailing (which he taught me), downhill skiing, and biking. I got my musical ability and love of it from my father, and it's something we've shared from the earliest days when he taught me to sing harmony, read music, and begin the piano when I was so young I can barely remember. He's an excellent woodworker/fine carpenter, who not only built furniture but our own house, and has always loved to do creative projects and to fix things -- in recent years that's turned into a hobby of fixing clocks, the more complicated the better.

Regardless of the challenge I was facing, from academic or artistic endeavors, to finding my way at a big university, to starting a business, my father always encouraged me to persevere, to be fair in all my dealings, concentrate on doing my own work tot he best of my ability rather than worrying about the competition, and to learn from my mistakes. If I had agreed to do something, or take a course, or learn something new, the rule was that I couldn't stop in the middle, but had to see it through for the agreed-upon duration. His other mantra was "a thing worth doing at all is worth doing well." I took that to heart as well. In combination with the influence of the strong women of my family, he also gave me the confidence to believe I could do whatever I wanted as a woman. I got my outgoing nature and love of humor from him, too. And in our nuclear family we had a rule: never let the sun go down on your anger.

My dad and I don't agree about everything, of course, but we've kept to that rule, we've always been close, and there's an unshakable bond of love and loyalty between us. It's been hard not to see each other in person during these months of the pandemic and a closed border, but we've kept in touch by frequent phone calls and the occasional zoom. Today, at last, I received my second vaccination, and hope to be able to go down to see him in the fairly near future, so that's something to celebrate in addition to Father's Day. Dad, je t'embrasse!

Comments

[am]

Thank you for this today. Your post brought me great vicarious joy. Wonderful photos, especially the one on the sailboat.

[Treadwell Atkins]

So beautiful! Henry and Treadwell

[Kathy Hughes]

Beautiful Beth! Your family is truly amazing! So happy to hear you will be able to see your father soon! Love to you and J!

[Magda Kapa]

Lovely hommage! xo

[Roderick Robinson]

My father was unfaithful to my mother and my childhood was - as a result - disturbed. Very disturbed as I discovered later. I tended to think badly of him and it was only at the end when he was dying in a care home and he said "Don't come if it's burden." that I was able to reply - truthfully - "It's not a burden." That was a very strange moment.

In retrospect I can see he wasn't temperamentally fit to be a father and I need to remind myself that this can be the case in some instances. It took me a long time to become a proper father myself; I have two daughters and I was one of three sons. I was unaware of feminine needs and differences. Perhaps I'm compensating for this in my novels.

More important still is my need to be massively grateful to my father for one important act that subsequently shaped me. At age 11 I was asked by him what I wanted to do in life: "Be a reporter." At 15, as I neared the end of my paid-for education, he asked again. "Be a journalist." I said. He was a businessman of some influence in the city and he accompanied me in an interview he'd arranged with the editor-in-chief of the local group of newspapers. I could never have achieved that on my own.

So, my childhood, unlike yours, was miserable and adversarial. But throughout the 44 years of my working life I followed the only profession (Not everybody thinks this way about journalism) I was equipped for. And rejoiced in. Our benefits arrive from strange sources.

[Beth]

Thank you, everyone, for your comments!

Robbie, I appreciated your honesty and openness in commenting on this post. I'm sorry your childhood was miserable as a result of your father's deficiencies and unfaithfulness. It's generous of you to acknowledge what he did give you, and it's good to know you were able to go to him in the care home at the end. Gosh, life is complicated, isn't it, and our families the most complicated aspect! Working it out in novels seems like a great idea -- and I've loved all your strong female characters in what I've read so far!