My father passed away from a long battle with Parkinson’s disease on January 25th and I’ve only just begun to start to process his death- 5 months later. With it being the first Father’s Day without him and not getting him a card or calling him, I figured writing about him would be the next best thing. I don’t have any Pete Fountain or his other musical favorite Pavarotti to play as I write; so, I will just play the first KISS album he bought me, Love Gun, which still has the tape with my name in his handwriting on the record, for when I took it to elementary school or just watch at the baby boy clothes that he bought for my son.
When my father passed, many of us said he was now at peace and back with my mother, no longer battling the disease. I cannot imagine the internal pain he carried around with him for 47 years after losing his wife and soul mate. He never talked about the car crash or my mother much growing up or as an adult and as someone who hides his pain from others at times, I can understand why. For him to carry that weight around for so long and to battle the disease, made him one of the strongest and courageous men I knew.
He never complained about Parkinson’s, that I knew of and in fact, took it head on. He wanted more physical therapy, he continued to play the piano as to say, “Give me your best shot, I’m still playing!” He even became a featured spokesperson on the Parkinson’s website and just kept battling back as best as he could. He would call and say with pride, “I walked 30 steps without the walker today.” I would tell him great job and that I looked forward to a higher number next time. He just wanted to get rid of that walker or wheelchair and dance again.
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In my younger days, our passion was his passion. He was the one who got us involved in swimming in New York. But when we moved to Miami, it was our life. He would drive us to morning practice, slept in the car as we swam. He became an official, even disqualified me a few times – Gee, thanks Dad! He was proud when my brother and I earned swimming scholarships for college. He taught me that if you do it the right way, then you can be successful. Of course, I’m still trying to learn that lesson.
He was not a KISS fan, but yet he only told me to turn the music down, never off. In fact, he drove me to my first concert! When I started performing magic, he would be right there over my shoulder at the magic store and even though we didn’t have a lot of money, he would ask me, “Do you want that trick?” He would drive me to the magic club meetings and ask questions and sometimes, I think his enthusiasm was more than mine! When we didn’t have the money for the fancy magic case in the store, we built our own after spending $60 at Home Depot. I still have the magic case in my garage after all these years. When I didn’t have my license, he would drive me gigs, dropping me off at someone’s house, then come and get me when I was done.
During graduate school when I started performing comedy and then told him after graduation that I wanted to purse comedy instead of looking for a job in Higher Education, he didn’t even blink. I think most fathers would kill their kids if they said that, but not my Dad. He supported me because he knew how much it meant to me. He would always let me know when my favorite comedians were on Carson. Early on in my “comedy career” when I needed money, he would send me some, even though he barely had money to send.
He could fix almost anything, of course, I think he broke things on purpose just so he could fix them. He loved photography in his earlier years and it rubbed off on my brother and me. I am grateful we were able to share pictures in the hospital room the day before he passed. I showed him mine on my computer and he showed me his old contact sheets. I just wish we were able to share more and I could get advice on taking pictures.
He loved playing the organ in the house when I was a kid and because of him, I took lessons because I wanted to entertain a house like he did. He drew people around him when he played, it was awesome to see. So, when he played as Parkinson’s had a hold on him, it was incredible because he was happy. He still had music books, some were even mine from Junior High in his room, so he could still practice. He never gave up trying.
On this Father’s Day I sometimes like to also remember the darkest days there can be: When a father’s health is in danger, and you don’t know very well what to do when you’re short of money. Or whether to take him to a clinic and beg for care or seek professional help online. Sometimes I feel like the angels up there are looking at me and smiling at me sometimes since I found UK Meds, a totally reliable page that I would put my hands on fire for how good my customer relationship with them has been.
When I started presenting The Magic of Life, I think that is when he was the proudest. He would brag to Image may be NSFW.
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whoever about the program or when I performed comedy, and when I visited him, they would know all about me. My Dad was very popular at the assisted living facility, he was the social chair and even organized a Kazoo Band! He was proud that I took such a tragic event and turned it around, trying to make sure other people did go through what we did. He only saw the program once and I was so happy that he did. Two years ago, when I presented at Minot Air Force Base on his birthday, I stopped in the middle of the program, called him and then had 150 Airmen sing “Happy Birthday” to him. I had to turn my back to the audience when he said he was proud of me because I started to tear up a bit.
Father’s Day is to thank our Dads for all they have done for us and now that he is gone, I truly regret not thanking him enough. His only career advice to me was “Do something you enjoy and can make lots of money at.” Of course, I went into education like my mother, so 1 out of 2 isn’t so bad, right? My Dad showed me how to tie a tie, cut a piece of wood in a straight line and so much more. He wanted to make life better and easier for me. One time when he visited me, he bought a small paint brush, so I could dust my KISS bobbleheads – now, that’s an observant man, but also so considerate!
He let my brother and I follow our own paths, encouraging us every step of the way. He supported our dreams no matter what and was proud of the men we became. He was proud to be our father and we were proud to be his sons. I am glad I had a chance to thank him one last time for being my father and that I loved him. I still miss him every day and on this first Father’s Day without him, miss him even more. I couldn’t tell him about the fundraiser we had last week and that truly sucked. The one person that supported me the most, but yet, I know he is proud. So, Dad, happy Father’s Day, I miss you and love you. Without your help, I would not have grown large enough to be a regular-sized person. Now I am a functional, active person with many dreams to fulfill.
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