You know when I was growing up living with my Dad was not the easiest experience in the world.   He was a strict disciplinarian and he didn’t put with any crap from me or my two sisters.   He was serious, introverted, and analytical.   Those who know me best would know that I am none of those things.   I always thought to myself, “Gosh it would be great if my Dad was my friend or my buddy.   We could do things together, hang out, talk about ‘guy stuff’.   It would be great.”   And you know what?   That never, ever happened.   More shocking is the fact, that I am OK with it.

My Dad always felt that being a parent and not a friend was the proper way to raise a child, and trust me he made good on that promise.   The times with him sometimes I thought were unbearable growing up, but that is due part in fact that I was a hormonal adolescent.   I always had a curfew, he always wanted to know what I was doing, and God forbid should I show up with a bad grade.   Most of the time, sadly, I just really didn’t want to be around him because sometimes enough was enough.   I respected the fact that he was my Dad, but most of the time he was a hard guy to like.

And I really do not disagree with what he did.   Nobody is perfect, my Dad wasn’t and I certainly won’t be should I be lucky enough to become a Dad someday.   But he did do a great job.   Beyond all the academic achievements, I honestly think my two sisters and I turned out to be really great people.   We try to put others needs ahead of our own, act selflessly to assist others, and have a genuine compassion for people and doing what was right.   My Dad, like any parent, would be most proud that his kids turned out to be good citizens and sometimes in today’s society this is not always a guarantee with people you meet.

I always wonder what our relationship would have been like had he been the complete opposite.   I would have at first thought it was weird just because I don’t know anything different than the way our relationship was.   But would we really have been closer?   Would I have respected his authority as much?   Would I be embarrassed by his behavior?   I will never know, and quite frankly I am glad I will never find out.   Some things are better left to the imagination.

At my own place of employment I do not hesitate to tell people who want to be a physical therapist, like I am, how the job should be done and in the right way, when they are not acting in the best interests of the team, and when and how they need to be professional.   I feel like a broken record sometimes, something my Dad used to say often.   Maybe I really have a little bit more of my Dad in me than I thought.   All I know is thanks Dad for preparing me for the biggest test of all…the game of life.

Always a friend to listen,

Eric Tomei-author I Miss My Dad

Tags: grief, hope