Guidance From Mufasa On Father’s Day
“Whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you and so will I.”- Mufasa, The Lion King
I’ve written in prior posts that my dad did not like attention on holidays like his birthday or Father’s Day. He preferred to do things for other people, and not necessarily on holidays. For this reason, other than feeling a little displaced and lonely without a plan to spend time with my dad, Father’s Day does not really bring me down. In fact, I returned on Monday from almost three weeks in Scandinavia and I did not remember the date until I listened to the news. The truth is that I don’t need a holiday to remind me that I already miss him. I do believe that he is always with me, watching over and guiding me, and that is a comfort. The cardinals in Central Park remind me of that, too, which is one of the reasons I have become so attached to being there. Still, there are those times that I just want to pick up the phone, or feel a touch. I don’t fight the moments of sadness or loneliness, but today I want to summon the loving and good memories, because I never lose sight of how fortunate I am to have them.
I have shared many memories of my dad, from his time in the Marine Corps to his love of animals to his sense of humor and wonderful laugh. More and more, I see how he has influenced who I am, in the good and not so good ways. People might think that I spoil Tinker Bell, as I did Disney and Tiffany, but I come from a family of pet spoilers! He never minded that our dogs loved to chase the squirrels, though he would shake his head as they barked at the same tree while he knew the squirrel had probably climbed to the next village! We loved animals, and I’m sure that he would have been feeding the squirrels with me, thrilled at the little relationships I have developed with my Central Park buddies.
With all of the chaos in the world, I miss getting Daddy’s perspective, particularly given his extensive knowledge of history and the military. While I generally do not address politics in this space, I know that what is happening would have devastated him- he was a proud Marine and a patriot through and through. As much as I miss his presence, I am actually grateful that he is not living through what seems to me to be the downfall of this country, but I miss the comfort of his explanations. Daddy was a yeller, and I know that he would be calling me to scream about every outrageous attempt to destroy our democracy. I did trust his judgment on world events because time and time again events did play out according to his predictions. I think back to the days of Dan Quayle, when Daddy and I would rush to the phone to call each other as soon as we heard one of his mistakes. I even got him a subscription to the “Dan Quayle Quarterly.” Now, in light of what he and I would definitely consider damage to the country, Dan Quayle’s errors would be a welcome bit of relatively harmless comic relief!
Daddy’s kind generosity certainly guided me in my approach to teaching and interactions with students. When I saw the many students who did not have fathers to celebrate, for a variety of reasons, I knew exactly how fortunate I have been in my life. Sometimes, it was those very students who most valued hearing about my dad and hearing me say things he taught me, such as “you get more with honey than with vinegar.” When he was alive, he often contributed to supplies for the arts projects I did with the kids. While I always enjoyed bringing new experiences to the kids, an added and especially touching aspect of this involvement of my dad was that for many kids, we were providing a feeling of being cared for, a real idea of family. I know that he would be pleased that I work with Hope Loves Company to support children whose families are affected by ALS. And, I know that he would be asking how he, too, could support them. That’s just the way he was- supporting me and others.
Daddy never traveled but he encouraged me to see the world. I take him with me in my heart. In Denmark, Norway, and Sweden I visited a Jewish Museum and a Resistance Museum. I saw an actual boat that smuggled Jewish people from Denmark to Sweden. My dad would have loved the history. I was struck by the pride of the Scandinavians in their resistance efforts. It drove home for me that these are people who lived through war and occupation. They do not understand how we do not see the dangerous warning signs. I have written about times when I know my dad is with me. When we left the Resistance Museum in Oslo, I saw a man walking a Giant Schnauzer. I always seem to see a Giant Schnauzer- not a commonly spotted dog- on dates and occasions that are relevant and meaningful to my dad. I know my dad was with me at that museum.
He was the consummate pessimist, except when it came to me and my potential, and I was his consummate cheerleader. At a time when I am pursuing writing and other ideas, I must to constantly summon the confidence my dad had in me that I have never had in myself. Daddy, Ben, my mom, grandma, and aunt Ellie are all encompassed in the heart of my soon to be published book, Pixie Dust for Caregivers.
Today, I also remember that Daddy never wanted me to be sad. Believe it or not, he was not a huge fan of Disney or animation, but when I showed him videos of my Walt Disney World visits with Ben, he beamed because he said he loved to hear me laugh and happy. I cannot count the number of people who stopped me to tell me that I was my dad’s world.
Daddy would be humbled that I remember him, which is so odd to me, because he is always with me and is so much of who I am and what I aim to accomplish. Thank you, Daddy, for the lessons you taught me, the laughs and sense of humor you shared, the moral compass and patriotism you instilled in me, and the unconditional love and generosity you showed me.
Daddy, I love you and miss you, on Father’s Day and every day!
