We refer to August as the Month of Ghosts around here, because August is the month that both of my parents died. Monday marks the 20th anniversary of my father's death.
I wrote extensively about Dad's death last year and doubt that I can improve upon what I wrote then. Mrs. D and I have done a fair amount of the work involved in raising our own family in the 20 years since my father passed away and that has been the most important thing that we have done. While it's sad that Benster and Fearless Maria never knew their grandfather, I see facets of his personality in them nearly every day.
My dad was a very funny man, but he was quite serious about the things he believed. He was probably the most generous guy I've ever seen. And he was always honest about what he believed, sometimes in inadvertently hilarious ways.
A favorite family story: while I was in college, he had taken my younger siblings to Mass with him, but he fell asleep during the homily. The homilist was a missionary who was a bit of a Liberation Theologian and his presentation was riddled with leftist bromides. At some point during the homily, Dad stirred but apparently forgot where he was. In a half-awake way, he said out loud, quite loud enough for the congregation to hear, "that's the biggest bunch of bullshit I ever heard." I'm guessing it was a little awkward.
Breaches of decorum pass. The many positive examples that Dad gave us in his all-too-brief life remain.
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