Sunrise Christmas morning and my first thought waking was not of presents, nor Jesus, but of my father who died recently. He passed over a week ago, and two days ago was the first day I almost didn’t cry at least a little. I almost didn’t cry the night before Christmas too, but late in the evening, he snuck in a happy memory that made me tear up. True, they were beautiful tears, but tears are tears and I don’t make the rules. I don’t know when that no-tear day will happen, when I’ll realize it, if I’ll care. I know it will happen.
It’s not today.
Welcome dear reader to my naugahyde divan.
I’ve written Ron so often before that he may be my most frequent focus. This is a large lift given the eclectic stream of consciousness writing style of this blog. He was bigger than life. Dad loved to read my writings, was my number one fan, and he loved your comments.
My writing has been scant, and my publishing barren. I forgive myself because I was busy. I had other things to do. I had other things on my mind. I was the caregiver who quarterbacked the last seven months of his father’s life.
It was duty I would not wish on, nor hand over to anyone.
The father/son relationship is a complex one, as old as time and I’ve seen many. I take solace knowing ours was among the best. We were as tight as the extra half wrench turn he’d always give a bolt to “snug it up” but “don’t over tighten it”. There’s a big Ron shaped hole right through my heart and I’m going to write through it.
How does a son end up getting a relationship this good with the father is the question I’ve chosen to explore on these pages. I harbor no dream of success, maybe just a delusion of disorder I can attempt to sort out. Realistically, I hope it’s not that difficult, but I know it takes a modicum of focus, dedication, and effort. If there’s anything I have, it’s a modicum of much. I’m a mile wide and an inch deep.
From the dusty corners of my mind, I’m going to sweep thoughts and memories into words with the hope they do some good.
Merry Christmas, and hug those you love.
3 Comments
Pam Dukarich · December 25, 2025 at 3:06 pm
Always enjoy your writings, and I know this one is from the heart. Merry Christmas!
Tina · December 25, 2025 at 3:12 pm
What a great 1st chapter of your journey of emotional healing from the grief that is losing your dad. Parent/child relationships are so complicated as we become adults. There are the times of awkwardness, the know-it-all stage, becoming friends in addition to parent/child, and sometimes caretaker. It takes internal strength to witness our parent(s) decline in physical and mental heath knowing the end is near and it takes a greater strength to step up and support that parent the best we can in their final months or sometimes days. Let the tears flow when you need to and let your mouth smile when you remember happier times. I find that talking about my parents often has helped me heal after their passing.
Mark · December 25, 2025 at 3:15 pm
Dale, as always, your writing (like your life) is thoughtful, wise, funny, insightful, and touching. “A mile wide and an inch deep,” is misleading– that’s just your camouflage of the deep end. You hit on the heart of the matter, and I noticed last week when I was reviewing your blog that you hadn’t written for about 8 months; then I realized (wonderful as your writing is) that you had a much more important assignment–and you pulled it off beautifully. You made the last chapter of your dad’s life a sweet one. Well done, good son.
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