Daddy being a dad

There are dozens of pictures on shelves, bureaus, night tables and hanging on walls around my house. A few of them are pictures of my dad. Since he died before my son was born (two days prior—31 years ago), I’ve always tried to make sure he was a presence even in his absence. I’ve told my son many stories of the grandfather he never knew, pointing out characteristics they have in common (musically talented, a people person), as well as all the experiences my dad couldn’t wait to share with him (especially, fishing).

One of the funniest memories I have of my dad is from my 16th birthday. I had a recital that day and during my pas de deux, when my partner lifted me above his head, my father screamed, “Don’t you drop my baby.” I imagine I was embarrassed although I don’t remember anything except hearing his voice, people laughing in response, and hoping the young man took heed of the warning.

I don’t’ suspect he meant to be funny, but if he did, that’s another characteristic they share: humor. My son loves to make people laugh.