My Father, Myself

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Today would have been my father’s birthday. He died 11 years ago.

I think of him often.

Are we who we are because of genetics? environment? a combination of both? As I have grown older I have to come to realize I am my father’s daughter most certainly. So much of who I am, the things that make me tick, are because of him. I was always closer with my father than my mother. He was always the more “emotive” parent- free with his hugs, easy to laugh, a good listener who really heard what you had to say. He was willing to engage in discussion at times when my mother just saw everything as black or white, gray never existed in her world. I was an emotional child- easy to cry, sensitive- my mother didn’t know what to do with it- thankfully my father was always there.

He grew up poor with an alcoholic father and no education past high school, but succeeded in rising above it and away from it, following the lead of people willing to help him, observing people, paying attention to how they got to where they got to, and reaching those heights himself because of it. Did he have a darker side, yes, but I am happy to remember what was so wonderful about him, and understand where the darkness came from and why it was a part of him and accept it.

One of my earliest memories (I was 5) is of us going bird watching together. He was an avid bird watcher and part of a club. We would leave the house before daybreak, and meet his birding group. I remember spotting a Snowy Owl once- a major sighting! My love of nature and birds stems from those early morning trips.

He loved music and loved to sing. He had hoped to become a professional singer in his early 20’s, but real life came along and he needed to be able to make a living. His love for music was infused throughout our home-he always sang to us and for us, he played the banjo- old folk songs with verses we could all join in on.

My father recorded a few songs in a studio when he was thinking he could turn his singing into a career. The recordings were on 78 rpm records. Shortly before he died I was able to have the recordings converted to CD. I remembered hearing the recordings as a child, but had literally not heard them in 45 years. At the sound of the first note of him singing, what a rush of emotion- music or a song can always take you back to another place and time- but to hear his voice! What a gift to be able to hear that beautiful voice again.

His favorite poem was Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken.

He read it to me many times, and always reminded me of the importance the following lines held for him.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

I am thankful to have had a father that understood me, helped me to grow as a person, and who lives within in me. I feel my ability to be a good listener, to search for deeper meaning in things, comes from him. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to tell him those things before he died. I made the following photo montage with one of his recordings playing in the background, if you’d like to take a listen.

30 thoughts on “My Father, Myself

  1. Nobody can take these memories from you. You were lucky still to have him as long as you did. My Dad to whom I was also so much closer than to Mom died when he was only 43. Sorry to share that here. Your post is so very emotional (at least to me) that I had to open up.


    • Paula that is so sad to have lost your father at such a young age(both he and you) My husband’s father died at age 46 when my husband was 10- it is such a life altering event that I believe changes the course of the life for the child. ❤


  2. What a beautiful tribute to your father and your relationship with him! I’m glad you’ve chosen to concentrate on the positives. Rarely is it good to concentrate on the dark sides.


  3. Beautiful, beautiful tribute to what sounds like an incredible man. Loved the music, the video, your memories. We are lucky to have had such amazing fathers, I did too. Mine passed in 2001 so I understand. My Father was born in Brooklyn and was a well-known Editorial Cartoonist, google him, you might enjoy his work, his name was Ray Osrin.


  4. Your father overcame his childhood and early “demons” to be quite a fine singer, father and provider. This was a special tribute to him, Lisa. The vocals are so nice to hear and I am sure he sang many times to soothe and take away your tears. So sweet to share!


  5. You’re very lucky to have such great memories. Your dad had a great voice m. It’s strange that no matter how long ago they passed away, we still keep them alive in our daily lives and it seems as if it was just yesterday they were holding us in their arms.


  6. What super memories of your dad, Lisa. He did indeed have a great voice. My dad died almost eleven years ago, and although he wasn’t as outgoing as yours sounds to be, he was also musical and had a lovely tenor voice. It’s good to remember the happy times. 🙂


  7. It’s always great to listen to your dad… he had such a great voice and he not only used his voice to sind he also did it with his heart…. Happy Birthday to your dad…


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