In Loving
Memory

My Dad

My dad passed away yesterday morning after a long fight with cancer. As I write this I am still numb. The tears come and go. The impact has not been fully felt.

I have never doubted that I had a wonderful father, not for a nanosecond. I always knew I was loved and that no matter what, he would be there if needed. When I was in high school playing sports he was such a loyal fan, for games home and away and even those that were out of state, that they presented him with an award at the annual banquet. But he wasn’t just there for me by showing up, he was there for me to answer questions, partake knowledge, and offer sage advice. The man loved his consumer reports and comparison shopping. Even if he always did it in such a way that I had to seemingly come up with the answers on my own, much like having a very good therapist.

To many he seemed to be a rather quite man, and he was. But given a topic he was passionate about, he was like an encyclopedia and loved discussion. He loved movies, he really loved movies. Not just one genre but many. Without him my tastes would be so much more narrow. He taught me to look for and enjoy variety in so many things. Architecture, movies, literature, food, cultures, art,….

Throughout high school he would pick at least one afternoon a week and we would go eat at some restaurant and talk about the culture of the region of the world in which the food originated. This would lead to a discussion as to why they would have developed particular tastes and ingredients. He encouraged me to always try new foods with an open mind. He taught me to appreciate good food of all varieties. The discussions would then lead to other ways that the culture’s beliefs, religions, and politics would be shaped by their geographical location. It was never a lecture but a socratic style discussion with why being the driving force behind the discussion. This meal would be followed by a movie, play, or a trip to a museum. As much as he loved to travel we didn’t often leave Atlanta in those days except to visit his parents in Chattanooga on weekends but he made sure I thought about and learned about the whole world.

When we would walk anywhere, and we walked a lot, he made sure to point out architectural details and encouraged me to think about what they told you about the time in which they were created. I learned to love the little nuances and to this day I tend to spend much of my time walking looking up for the details he taught me to appreciate. When I was younger the walks included playing Kim’s Games and to this day I tend to notice so many extra details just out of habit. I am so thankful of this legacy.

Another great love he passed on to me was for auto racing and cars. Specifically British racing and sports cars. Many an hour was spent in the garage restoring cars or hunting down parts at various parts stores or junk yards. I can not enter an autoparts store or a mechanics garage without the smell bringing back wonderful memories. We also spent time watching racing on television and when possible at Road Atlanta for live events. The sound, and feel, of the engines elicits the same sense of happiness.

His love of cars extended to driving and his teaching me how to drive. He made me appreciate that all cars are different and it was my job to treat each car as she required and always with a light touch as if a caress. Many years before I would be allowed to even possess a learners permit he would have me place my hand on the gear shift under his as he taught me to feel the gears change and showed me how smoothly this action should be done (any of you that have driven a 1950s or 60s British sports car will know that feel and just how good it feels when you are able to shift with perfect smoothness). He then had me help take apart and work on a transmission so I could visualize what I was feeling. Looking back, this was the only transmission we ever rebuilt ourselves and I think it was only for that experience. I can still remember having to drive around with a full cup of water in a cup holder that went on the window track and not spill a drop when accelerating, decelerating, or changing gears. I thought this the most annoying thing in the world at the time, and only truly came to appreciate this ability when trying to not wake a sleeping child.

Dad was also a loving grandfather. Even though I chose a life with the military and was often far from home I always tried to do my best to make sure my children got to know him and form memories and a strong bond. Many a mile was driven so that they could have the benefit of such a man in their lives. As I told my children this morning I realized I had been successful. While it hurt my heart to hear the pain in my younger ones voices it also let me know that through that love he lives on in their minds and memories.

I know for certain a day will never go by without thoughts of him and the sound of his voice in my head as I mull over choices big and small. I am so thankful to have had such a wonderful father…..