Those of you that have been on the board for awhile, and have followed my posts in the past, may remember that June 26th marks the second anniversary of the passing of my Father. That day was the saddest and most difficult day of my life so far. That day truly went all 19 (0+6+2+6+2+0+1+2=19).
I can't believe that it's been two years already. Sometimes it feels like it just happened yesterday. Anyway, I wanted to take some time today to create this post in his honor. Thank you in advance if you read the entire post. It's a bit long. Your friendly, neighborhood SwiftDog doesn't get sentimental often but when he does he can't stop barking.
My Dad was our world's version of a Gunslinger. He was a police officer for 40 years and dedicated his life to serving and protecting others. He was a decorated officer, having won his department's Medal of Honor for helping to save several children from a house fire. He and his partner had arrived on the scene before the fire department and were the first in the building. The last decade or so of his career he spent as a detective in the domestic violence unit. Not a very fun assignment but an extremely important one.
One thing that has stuck with me is that during his wake and funeral services all of his fellow officers that came kept saying "He was a good man, but he was a better cop." Dad would have liked that. As much as he complained about his job at times, he took pride in what he did. Hearing that meant a lot to my family and I. It made me even more proud of him than I already was.
Dad and I had our differences. Especially when I was younger. I was the middle child but the oldest boy. Sometimes I think Dad didn't quite know what to make of his guitar playing, smart-a** of a son. My cynical attitude towards authority and other people in general along with my extreme distaste of being told what to do without a good explanation as to why I should do it didn't help much either. I know it frustrated him and my Mom to no end.
Dad was tougher on me (at least I thought so anyway) than he was on my older sister and younger brother. There were a lot of rules to follow and expectations to be met. I had some major resentment over that for quite some time. However, I came to realize later that he was preparing me for what is often a cruel and demanding world. Looking back, I'm a better person for it.
I became close with my Dad as I got older, especially towards the end when he was getting sicker and sicker from his various health issues. I came to realize that he and I were a lot alike. Probably the reason why we could push each other's buttons so well. I'm glad that I got to spend a good amount of time with him right before he passed.
One last thing. I am adding a link to U2's It's A Beautiful Day. Why, you ask? First off, it was one of my Dad's favorite U2 songs. Additionally, this song kept popping up the day that my Dad passed as well as the days leading up to the funeral. It played on his alarm clock when it went off at my folks house that morning. It was on the radio when I went to the funeral home to drop off items for the services. It was on the radio when we left for the wake and when we left of for the funeral. Weird. So, Dad, this is for you.......I miss you and I love you.
I have remembered the face of my Father. I have remembered it very well............
I can't believe that it's been two years already. Sometimes it feels like it just happened yesterday. Anyway, I wanted to take some time today to create this post in his honor. Thank you in advance if you read the entire post. It's a bit long. Your friendly, neighborhood SwiftDog doesn't get sentimental often but when he does he can't stop barking.
My Dad was our world's version of a Gunslinger. He was a police officer for 40 years and dedicated his life to serving and protecting others. He was a decorated officer, having won his department's Medal of Honor for helping to save several children from a house fire. He and his partner had arrived on the scene before the fire department and were the first in the building. The last decade or so of his career he spent as a detective in the domestic violence unit. Not a very fun assignment but an extremely important one.
One thing that has stuck with me is that during his wake and funeral services all of his fellow officers that came kept saying "He was a good man, but he was a better cop." Dad would have liked that. As much as he complained about his job at times, he took pride in what he did. Hearing that meant a lot to my family and I. It made me even more proud of him than I already was.
Dad and I had our differences. Especially when I was younger. I was the middle child but the oldest boy. Sometimes I think Dad didn't quite know what to make of his guitar playing, smart-a** of a son. My cynical attitude towards authority and other people in general along with my extreme distaste of being told what to do without a good explanation as to why I should do it didn't help much either. I know it frustrated him and my Mom to no end.
Dad was tougher on me (at least I thought so anyway) than he was on my older sister and younger brother. There were a lot of rules to follow and expectations to be met. I had some major resentment over that for quite some time. However, I came to realize later that he was preparing me for what is often a cruel and demanding world. Looking back, I'm a better person for it.
I became close with my Dad as I got older, especially towards the end when he was getting sicker and sicker from his various health issues. I came to realize that he and I were a lot alike. Probably the reason why we could push each other's buttons so well. I'm glad that I got to spend a good amount of time with him right before he passed.
One last thing. I am adding a link to U2's It's A Beautiful Day. Why, you ask? First off, it was one of my Dad's favorite U2 songs. Additionally, this song kept popping up the day that my Dad passed as well as the days leading up to the funeral. It played on his alarm clock when it went off at my folks house that morning. It was on the radio when I went to the funeral home to drop off items for the services. It was on the radio when we left for the wake and when we left of for the funeral. Weird. So, Dad, this is for you.......I miss you and I love you.
I have remembered the face of my Father. I have remembered it very well............
