Saying Goodbye to a Father

Dear Rick,

Hello old friend. I am writing you to tell you a few things in hopes that you will know how much you impacted my life. It is my wish for you to know that I adore you immensely. I have always held a special place for you in my memory and heart. I wish to share a couple moments with you to illuminate the mark you left on me.

Your son, Scott, and I met sometime in 1987. Both Scott and I were in 1st grade at Arundel Elementary School. Scott and I became friends in the schoolyard amongst other kids. But what really bonded Scott and I was a common interest in Cub Scouts. Where little boys could truly be little boys; where the poison ivy, blue belly lizards and endless knot tying education takes place. I was enamored with the order of it, the formality of saluting the flag, the excited comparison of pocketknives, and the seemingly endless pursuit of patches for my mother to sew into my Cub Scout uniform shirt.

I came to find out that there was a Troop Master. When he speaks, we listen. When he says “do it this way,” there was no pushback. The man that had the awesome position of presiding over all of us was you. To my 6 year old mind, you were something else. You were tall, full head of silver hair and commanded my attention. I thought you were a local celebrity. Your status in my life was further amplified when I found out you were a fireman. A job title synonymous with public service and tremendous bravery. Even as a snot nosed 6 year old, I had enormous adoration for you and all your prominent titles.

You are all these great things to me because of where I came from. I am sure you remember at least a little bit. I am the only boy raised by my mother and 2 older sisters. My father was not around much through most of life and my earliest memories of that occurred about the time I met you. At the time, my mother was also having some trouble. As a little boy, a lot of time was spent alone playing and pretending. And since my sisters were female, sometimes I found it very hard to find someone else to have fun with. That’s kind of how Cub Scouts fit into my life. It became a place outside my home life where I could escape from all the yucky girls in my house. J

As the years have gone by, I’ve realized a few things about those times. I noticed that the Friday night meetings became less interesting because I was in a woodsy area with you and Scott, I was reading and learning about fire and how to fashion a trap to catch wild animals. I was being a little boy. That is not something I was use to. Rick, you recognized that my home life was not like Scott’s. You took me into your home and your life and showed me things that my mother or absentee father could not and would not. I cannot begin to tell you how much that meant to me and how much it means to me still.

I vividly remember your garage in San Carlos. I remember preparing for a pinewood derby race. The most revered and exciting event for a Cub Scout. I had never seen so many power tools and dust in my life. Every thing we needed was there and like a true educator, you gave me the information I needed to make my own pinewood derby car. Your patience and gentleness with me was incredible.

I remember taking the small block of wood to the belt sander for the first time. Your hands were wrapped around mine as you guided me to sand down the edges. Then once I had the hang of it, you let me go at it alone. I was 7! The noises, the smells and the garage…………..I was in absolute heaven.

This is just an example of the grace and unbelievable ease you imparted on me. The rest of my feelings toward you and Scott come from awe. Since my father chose not to be in my life, I had no knowledge of what a father-son relationship was supposed to be. Scott’s life seemed so different from mine. I was deeply envious of Scott. A few times, I remember being jealous to the point of not wanting to hear about excursions I was not included on. When there was room for me in the garage, you never let me down or made me feel like I didn’t belong there. Through all these years, you never stopped trying to help me. You never stopped educating me. And it’s the same with Scott. Because he is your son, he is intelligent, logical, prepared and is one tough son of a bitch.

I hear of your condition and think to myself “How?” How could that man be suffering like this so much? This fierce father and fireman can’t possibly be planning an exit. My helplessness in your situation is maddening to me. I cannot begin to understand the amount of pain you are in, but I do know that if given the chance; there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to remove it from you. I am so sorry.

Please go on knowing that you were my first, real-life hero. In a time when He-Man and Popeye were big acts to follow, you always came out on top. I will always look inward to the memories and good times we had. All the advice, the instruction and the love you showed a quiet little boy that didn’t have a father of his own. I wear those thoughts and memories on me, I am still here to show the rest of the population that there are good and decent men in the world.

I love you, Rick. However it is that you find peace, find it knowing that I am proud to know you and consider myself eternally in your debt for your contribution to my life. Through you, I can see that there is purpose, there is love and there is life.