Father's Day Fun

I got a tie. Tiernan gave me a tie for Father's Day. I ask for Guitar Hero (with the guitar) I clearly stated that I wanted it and Tiernan knows that I want it because I keep going back to Best Buy to play on the one in the store. And Tiernan plays too. Plus The Record did an "Off beat Father's Day Gift" story and featured Guitar Hero and I actually circled it and displayed the circled article on the kitchen counter and everybody noticed it. But I got a tie.



A tie with Dinosaurs glue to it. Tiernan made it in preschool. It is really cute. It is the coolest tie I own. I love it. He was so excited to give it to me. He brought it home in his backpack on like Wednesday and wanted to give it to me then, but we told him to wait until Sunday. But Mommy, had to get it out of his backpack and hide it so I wouldn't got sneaking around looking for it, since I knew it was in his backpack and all. My gift had to be hidden, but he kept taunting me with it. "Daddy, I have a surprise for you, for Father's Day."

By the way, Reagan that ungrateful little worm didn't get me anything.

One of the reason I do this blog is to keep a history of the kids. It's kind of a masculine scrapbook -- a couple of photos here and there and thoughts on random events in the lives of the kids. I wish I had started it earlier, when Tiernan was an infant. It would make it easier to gauge Reagan's progress. Tiernan started using a fork on or about this date, Reagan should start soon or why hasn't she started. However, the only resources I have is my very unrelieable memory, which can conjur up the events as they happen, but doesn't come with a time/date stamp. Over the weekend, I realized that I did have a small help, I came across a letter that I started writing to Tiernan before he was born. In the months and years after he was born, I would add to it occasionally. It was kind of an earlier version of the Poop Truck.

This is an except approprate for the Father's Day post.

It is 1 a.m., Dec. 7, 2003. As I write this you are curled up in Mom’s womb and Mom is curled up in bed with Maggie the dog. I on the other hand am in my office/dressing room thinking about you. Your scheduled appearance here in the real world is still 24 days away.
The idea came to me about Week 21 of mom’s pregnancy with you—shortly after the first ultra-sound—when your Mother and I found out we were having a boy. I thought I should take some time to write down my thoughts about you.
I have been doing a lot of thinking about Fatherhood. More specifically, what kind of father I will be. Will I be a super-hard driving, never pleased task master or a soft-hearted goof-off of a Dad who believes that anything his son does is genuinely brilliant.
Luckily, I had a great model for fatherhood. My own father is a brilliant dad. When I was growing up he was the strongest man on the planet, because he could turn screws that I couldn’t, and he could open the tops on jars that were stuck. And he could lift heavy objects. For all the strength he had, he never scared me with it. He never used it to hurt anything. He didn’t really have a temper, at least he didn’t show it to me. But I was afraid of him. Later, as I grow older, I realized that I wasn’t afraid of upsetting him, as much as disappointing him. And I disappointed him on plenty of occasions, but he kept coming back and supporting me. He would discipline me but it was always in an effort to correct my behavior, never to embarrass or hurt my feelings.
I am thankful for that many things my father taught me. One is a love of music. Some of my favorite memories as young child were sitting on the floor—of the apartment in North Bergen—with my father listening and watching Arthur Fielder and the Boston Pops perform classical music, while we at LaChoy Chinese Noodles right out of the can. My father would point out different instruments to me and ask me if I could hear what each one sounded like. Then he would try to demonstrate what they sounded like. I think it, as a young kid, I feel in love with the idea of my big strong father making silly noises and sub-consciously the love of music seeped into my being. While I can’t play any instruments, I am amazed by those who can. And he also taught me to enjoy all types of music. He gave me an appreciation of classical music and country music and early rock n’roll and even showtunes. For that I thank him.
He helped shape my sense of humor by showing me that funny was many different things and that laughing at yourself is sometimes the funniest joke. And for that I thank him.
My father taught me about spirituality by sharing his thoughts on God and Heaven with me. He was an alter boy when he was young and it played a big part in his early life and because of that, it played big part in my life. He is a very spiritual man. I am sure that he is disappointed in me today that I don’t go to church as often as I should but, he should know that I too am a spiritual person. His faith in God is in me and sustains me. I share his faith for I know that God is within him and my father shows others his holiness all the time, whether they know it or not. And I thank him for that.
He showed me that a man was a lot more than just being manly. A true man was gentle, and gracious and sensitive and emotional. A true man respects others and himself. Having self respect and holding yourself accountable for your actions is the mark of a true man.
As I grew older I found out how strong my father is. The entire time I was growing up my father was sick. He had kidney disease and his kidney’s stopped functioning when I was a young boy. He spent many years on a kidney dialysis machine. In fact, we had one in the house. My dad would sit in the living room in a big Barca Lounger and my mother would roll in this big 5-foot high machine and stick needles connected to tubes in my father’s arm—in to take blood out of a vein and another to put it back into his vein. The blood would then go through the machine and be purified. Although, this had to be done three nights a week and it often made him feel terrible the following day because his blood chemistries often got all out of whack, my father was the most active father of all my friends’ fathers. He was a Cub Scout master. He was a football coach. And he never got just a little involved he was president of the football league and head master of the scout pack and he still had a his job which forced him to travel all over the Northeast. All that work and time dedicated to me and my happiness without working kidneys. Always, with pain and discomfort from the dialysis. And I never once heard him complain about.
Later, he changed the way he did the dialysis. No more machine now he would put a saline solution into his Peritemum, the area of the body where all the organ are. That solution would squish around in there for an hour or so, and purify the blood that way. After an 4 hours or so, he would drain out the fluid and put another bag in. He did this constantly for a number years, while remaining as active as ever in my life.
A number of years later, when I was 18, he finally had a kidney transplant. Which led to a bunch of good years of life with a kidney. Then, as a result of the medicine to help the new kidney, he was forced to have emergency quadruple heart bypass surgery. That was about ten years ago. And it has never slowed him down. It may have caused him to take an early retirement from work, but I as with everything, he never complained about it.
He faced all of these obstacles with courage, fortitude and grace which are the hallmarks of a great man. It took faith, love, and strength to overcome them and to keep overcoming them. It is his strength which makes him the strongest man I know today.
Even after after all those health problems, he is currently building the cradle you will sleep in, just as he built the toybox in you bedroom, for me 30 years ago. His craftsmanship is still very good. He can mold wood into furniture and young boys into men.
All of his lectures and punishments, — and there were plenty — were given in an effort to lead his son to grow up to become a well-rounded, well-respected man. I hope I became the man my father wanted me to be and I hope that I can be a quarter of the father to you that he is to me.