Time...again.

One of our great trips to NJ. A
tradition we owe to Pop. 

I've written two blogs already about time, our passage through it and the milestones it brings (here and here).  A very significant milestone was reached at the end of October when dad passed. His health was failing, so I shouldn't have been surprised, but he went quickly when his time came, and that caught me off guard. It was a good thing, of course, that he didn't suffer, and that provides me with some selfish comfort, but the loss really hurt. I now reflect how much he really meant to me, and how much he influenced my life.

I think his most important influence on me was his loyalty and commitment to his wife and family. His honor and love of mom was unconditional and unshakable. They were married shortly before he was shipped to Korea and his love of her, I believe, carried him through the darkest time of his life. We still have the letters he wrote home from the war. I haven't read them, and doubt I will, but they are no doubt heartbreaking and poignant. How difficult must it have been to be torn from the love of your life and sent to hell on earth. The war scarred him for certain, but I believe it also strengthened his commitment to his wife, and eventually the family.

On The Schooner American.  One of his favorite spots.

Upon his return from the war, he and mom settled down and went about with the business of raising a family. His job at IBM afford them with the luxury of leaving mom at home with the task of raising us kids. But as we got older and could be left alone, he encouraged mom to finish her college education at SUNY Binghamton. His support of her was unwavering.

You brought us together again, pop. 

After he retired, he and mom traveled extensively. They signed up to be notified about last minute deals on cruises and ended up on the QE2 for her final cruise. They cruised to Alaska, relived their 1970s trip to The Virgin Islands, and had numerous trips to Cape May and the Jersey shore. As mom's health declined and she struggled, the trips dwindled and he became a full time caregiver for his wife. Once again, his commitment to her never wavered despite what must have been extremely difficult and upsetting work. When she passed, he literally was near death himself, at least partially from the toll of taking care of her. After open heart surgery to repair a diseased valve, he slowly recovered.

One of the first things we did upon his recovery, was a family trip to south Jersey. He absolutely loved it there and loved to spend the afternoon at The Lobster House with a front row seat on The Schooner drinking beer and eating incredible amounts of seafood. It almost became routine, especially with Cindy and I, to take a trip to "Jersey" and spend hours lingering on The Schooner. It's one tradition we will continue Pop.

The family gathered, from all parts of the country, upon his passing. It was comforting to me to see how much he meant to his grandchildren. He felt at liberty to relax with them, free from his job as a father to discipline or judge. This earned him the loving title of "Pop", and their tributes to him at the services were very moving.

So time moves on, with increasing speed it seems to me. Losing my father has made me reflect on not only his life, but my own, and how time may be the most precious thing we have. Time is infinite, but finite to us, at least on this world, and we must use it wisely. Effort must be made to have more "good" time than "bad" time, and that is an effort worth making. Since it's costing me valuable time, this means retiring from my job sooner rather than later, and improving my time spent. A final lesson from a wise man, who valued time spent with those he loved, above everything else.

Here's to you Pop. Thanks for everything.