Today would have been my dad’s 80th birthday if he hadn’t died from pancreatic cancer. I was thinking about him a lot today. I was thinking about how he might see the world today and how different it is than February 2007, when he died. I’m certain he would not like what America has become. He would have had a lot to say about the state of the world. I’m certain he would have invested a lot of time in listening to others…to an extent.
He was an exceptional listener, which made him an excellent psychologist. My admiration for him runs deep and I miss him like hell. Still! I wish I remembered more. I wish we had been a family that recorded home movies, but we do have a lot of audio tapes that my brother had digitized. Alas, I haven’t listened to them except when we were all at my brother’s house when my mom died this year. Or was it over the holidays? I was thinking about how he would have been with my mom suffering through Parkinson’s. It made me intensely sad. There was a part of me that was happy he didn’t have to witness her decline. So many what-ifs. Still.
Laura picked up some lemon bars, one of my dad’s favorite desserts, which we enjoyed after dinner. Ozzie wanted to light a candle and sing “Happy Birthday.” It was a sweet gesture, but we didn’t do it. He was dead, after all. We did talk about him though. Cassidy asked what his favorite fruit was. I didn’t really know. I guessed maybe an apple, but as I type this, I know he liked plums a lot. Everyone in my family is pretty sensitive to noises and my dad was a loud eater. He would slurp juicy fruits, slurp his coffee and when he ate open-face lettuce and peanut butter sandwiches, I had to leave the room. The smacking was absolutely dreadful. I would take nails on a chalkboard without hesitation.
I was asked for a favorite story and couldn’t think of just one. “I have so many,” I said quietly, as a lump formed in my throat. It’s difficult for me to talk about him. I talked about him coming to LA to visit me, about hanging out with my friend Michael, whom my kids have still never met. I told them my friend Robert, whom they know well, got to meet him. They asked if Laura had ever met him. She had not.
Earlier today I tried to imagine what he might look like at 80. No doubt he would have been fit. His hair probably would have been completely gone by now. Alas, all I can do is wonder. All I can do is imagine the conversations and wisdom he would impart on anyone who would listen. He would question everyone and everything inquisitively and then listen. We would all do well to be better listeners.
