Father’s Day is drawing to a close but I need mention my dad tonight. Along with my brother and sister he keeps me sane yet I find it hard to write about him. So much easier to write about my mom but that’s just how it is. He was always the laid back one anyway so he will totally understand.
I know it couldn't have been easy trying to deal with me after my mom passed but yet he always did. As my life spiraled out of control he could have concentrated on the others but he didn't. For that I'll always be grateful because I know for a fact somebody gave him exactly that advice. When I was in rehab he visited every day, never complained, and truth be told snuck me cigarettes now and than. Now that's a dad.
Where my love of art comes from my mom my love of sports comes from my dad. That would seem obvious, and it is, but you have to understand it's as much a part of me as the art is. I can’t imagine my life without either of them. The sports yin to the art yang I suppose. He rarely if ever missed a field hockey game and always had something positive to say afterwards. He has a passion for Philly sports teams and a hatred of New York ones that somehow got genetically transferred to me. Sometimes it creates problems at the bar but that’s just how it is.
Because of my dad I can easily spend a day watching the bobber on the end of a fishing line and not care if I catch a thing. Because of him I like roller coasters, fast cars, and movies that go boom. I can change Foxy's oil on my own, discuss obscure 80's metal bands, and make the perfect burger.
Because of him I'm still around to write this.
Happy Father’s Day dad.
Bruce Springsteen - Thunder Road
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