I have to give another disclaimer. If me writing about my Dad in anyway upsets you or offends you then stop here! This blog is in celebration and condemnation of the man who should have turned 66 on Thursday. If you feel like I have overstepped myself and this blog space after reading it I am sorry. But I have found that as I write these entries, I have unleashed many things that I have kept locked away deep in my brain. I need to get them out. I need to speak freely. Unfortunately I do not always allow myself to do that in person with my friends. This happens to be one of those topics I feel that way about.
Something about paper, or cyberspace anyway, makes it easier to express certain things. I get into story telling or apologetics when I start to talk to friends and family about Buzz. Buzz was my Dad. More than a couple of you that read my blogs knew him. Not always the most talkative, he had a way of turning the most benign situations into sarcastic fantasy. I am as sarcastic as I am because of him (and my Uncle Butch), and I am grateful for it. I mean sometimes people just need to be made to feel stupid, and who better to make them feel that way than me? I thank my dad's spirit often for that gift.
I also have the love of sports and the friendly wager from him. Some of you know about my past demons in that regard, but I did not get that from him. What I did get from him was never welch on a bet, even if it costs you a year of doing dishes, and never bet on the dog that does his business right before the race. I inherited the hell of being a Browns fan from him, and with only fleeting moments of glory an Ohio State fan. I learned how to play poker and craps from him. I only wish he had taught me how to set up a Nassau at a golf outing.
I also wish he had taught me what he knew about building and plumbing. He was so afraid that I would end up as a blue collar guy like himself that he would never teach me how to do anything. I would ask how something worked, and he would answer "you don't need to know how to do that because you're going to college." Or "you're going to use your brains, not your hands." My least favorite of the answers had to do with "I was better than he was and I was going to be the first one in the family to make something of themselves." Why didn't he think he had done something with himself?
Another important thing he taught me was how to win and lose as a man. No one is happy when they lose. It could be at trivial pursuit, not making the highest grade on a test, or the championship game. Competition is a good thing, and he instilled that quality in me. He also taught me to win with class. There have been times I have failed, especially on some of the golf outings I have had with Matt, but I try to win and lose gracefully. I may feel at this if the Browns ever win the Super Bowl.
But the most important thing I learned from him I learned from his death. I learned that it is unforgivable to give up. I learned that selfishness and selflessness can get confused. I learned that trying to be the strong silent type can lead you to places you don't need to go. In thinking that he had THE answer to all of his and mom's financial problems he only solved one of them. The only problem he solved was him worrying about his problems. He caused so many more. He missed out on so much more. He dropped the ball on his family. We all have to figure out how to move forward, even 11 years later. We are left to figure what could have/should have been.
I want to be as good of a father as he was for the first 27 years of my life. I know that I will make mistakes; I just wish he was around to help me get through them. I am very grateful to the help and support I have received from my "other dad's" over the years, but I wish Buzz was still here to ask Chuck if he "belonged here", or ask us why we needed a gun, or to laugh at me when I realized how screwed I am having a daughter. I miss him very much. I still feel like he abandoned us. But after all of the pain and loss, I still love him very much.
Stay Safe,
Rob
And OMG!!!! After ME!! He would so say you are screwed!!!
ReplyDeleteWell put. Happy Birthday Dad.
ReplyDeleteGlad you have moved on with your life and turned a very tragic event into something you were able to learn and grow from.
ReplyDeleteIt was great seeing you Saturday night!
Rob.......no boundaries overstepped. I do as much in my blog--it's cathartic. I think the emotions you expressed were perfectly appropos. Forgive me for bringing it up--but the night Kelly called me to tell me he died....coming to see all of you--and you'll have to forgive me if I overstep any bounds here--the atmosphere and the emotions at your house that night were as honest as I've ever seen them when a family has lost someone. I remember your Uncle Butch telling funny stories.....I remember your Mom's anger....and I couldn't blame her not one little bit. Kelly's first question to me when I got there broke my heart.
ReplyDeleteYour Dad was a riot....he really was.
I am thinking of Kelly, you and Mrs. Boz today.....love to all of you.
Lynn
Hey Bubba.
ReplyDeleteIf it helps, you are right on target on all counts. Just because someone has done something so bad to you doesn't mean you stop loving them. You may be angry. You may be hurt. But the love is still there when all of that fades.
Writing it down helps as well. I aint too sure about the public arena part, but the writing is definitely a help. I've written quite a lot over the years. Of course, I've also shredded a lot too. Some things just don't need to be known by everybody.
You've still got this little fat boy to lend a ear when you need it too, so don't sweat that.
Take care and stay safe.
'Noid
Hey Rob,
ReplyDeleteI know the loss of a Dad and even when the cause of death differs, you still feel the love and the abandonment that goes with it.
Your dad always made me laugh --and I still remember him dancing the night away at mine and Knox's wedding.
We have learned so many lessons from our parents --in their life and in their death. I know that you will share those with your daughter and that is how "life" continues to go on.
Take care of yourself and know that you are always a friend...even when life and years get in the way.
--Allison Barnett
I loved your Dad, and was blessed to have known him. I am one of three that knew why he asked why we needed a gun. I am one of the few that was taken to the cleaners by his sock full of change in the basement and now know why he offered to be the dealer. I laughed at the ease at which that stupid Civilization game sucked him in for hours while you wanted to go to bed. I loved him and mourned with you and still do.
ReplyDeleteOut of that tragedy, I learned that life is short, you never know how long those you love will be with you. Never miss out on an opportunity to tell them how much they mean to you and to tell them you love them.
I am lucky enough to still have my father in my life and I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful loving Dad who has taught me how to be a man and a husband, and I pray will be there when I am blessed with children (probably laughing at me). I love him with all of my being and miss him terribly and wish he I could see him more than four times a year. But, it's still four times a year, and we can always pick up the phone. For that, I am blessed and have learned through you, how lucky I truly am to still have that ability. You know we all love you and all of us have, to some degree or another, tried to be there for you, but there is no substitute for your Dad, and we miss him. We all know you will be a great father, and pass on those things that your Dad instilled in you.
In the words of Socrates, "The unexamined life is not worth living." Keep doing what you are doing. We love you. MG
I only wish that my father was as good a father as you are going to be.
ReplyDeleteOk, man