Dad…God…God Dad!

I lost my dad in February of last year. I didn't really lose him since I know exactly where he is; St. Michael's Cemetery buried with his mother and father.

For most of my life, death was almost never a part of it. I don’t remember anyone dying in my family until I was 27 years old when my grandmother passed away. Then, I was almost 50 years old when the previous generation started to make a mass exodus.

A couple of my favorite aunts passed away, then a couple of uncles I was close to when I was a child; then last year dad. I already think about death too much but these things really started the ball rolling. So now, not quite the first anniversary of my father’s passing, I’ll share some things about dad. So sit back, grab a drink, and reflect as I tell you at least one thing you’ve probably not considered. And if you have considered all these things, you’re as weird as I am!

During my first twenty years, my dad and I were very close. If he would have died then, I think I’d have been lost. Not having a mother to speak of while I was growing up, my dad was everything to me. As a teen and young adult, I went the usual rebellious route. I developed friends of my own, struck out on my own and began my own family. But as the saying goes, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.

There are many things I don’t have in common with my father. I don’t treat my children as he treated his. I don’t rule my family as he ruled his. I don’t believe his list of rights and wrongs as it pertains to people. For example, he always thought I should respect him because he was my father. That’s an incredible thought to me. I should respect you because you were able to climax, lucky enough to create a zygote which developed into a human being, specifically me? Are you serious? I don’t think so. Most of the time, procreation has nothing to do with procreating. So while I don’t begrudge people’s sexual escapades, I don’t respect them for those escapades anymore than I respect them for riding a rollercoaster, watching a movie or doing anything else they’ve done for pleasure.

I respect my father because he took care of me. He raised me, made sure I was fed – let’s not go there right now – clothed, educated and entertained. He was an average dad in the mold of the 50s dads like Ward Cleaver and Ozzie Nelson. That is why I respected my father. I believe he tried to be a good parent. He didn’t shirk his responsibility to me. He took care of me which is what most people should do when they become parents. I can respect that and my father for it.

Politically and culturally I couldn’t be more different than my father. Did we really spend my first 20 years together? Amazing…..he was an Archie Bunker conservative which is a nice way of saying a bigot and chauvinist. He always laughed at Archie because he believed Archie was right and that no one else watching knew how right he was. I’m an off the chart liberal, maybe the most politically liberal person you know. Suffice it to say my dad and I did not see eye to eye politically in almost any sense.

Dad was also religious if he was forced to be. He certainly didn’t doubt there was a creator, but for most of my dad’s life, god was an afterthought. He didn’t live for god, the afterlife or anything spiritual as a young man. While he may have grown wiser in his spirituality as he aged, I suspected it was the fear of death catching up with him.

Regardless, we couldn’t have been further apart on the subject of spirituality either. He died the Catholic he was born. Certainly he broke just about every law and rule the Catholics had, but he still remained a Catholic to his death. The closest religion for me is this New Age Spirituality thing, but I’m not sure I fully understand it. I don’t know if I believe in one god, more than one god or no god at all. When I do believe in god, I definitely believe in reincarnation. My father couldn’t wrap his mind around reincarnation since you couldn’t come back as the same person. From his perspective, the only possibility was to come back as the same person you were. What are the odds that Carmen Corica would come back as Carmen Corica? Then, from his perspective, reincarnation was fiction.

Dad and I did love the culture we were born into. I have enjoyed being a full-blooded first generation Eyetalian. I love the food, the music, the celebrations and I know he loved them too. He and I did think about our culture a bit differently. He thought, like a lot of people, that his culture was somehow better than most. I don’t see how a culture can be better or worse unless we’re talking about a culture that sacrifices virgins. A culture’s food, music or celebrations don’t make a culture better or worse than other cultures. It’s the hubris of human beings that even gives rise to the thought of a culture being good, better or best. Cultures are not better than one another; they’re different from one another, just like people

To tell you the truth, if my dad and I weren’t born in to the same family, I don’t think I would have ever become friends with him. However, I was born into his family. I was his first born male child and got to know him as well as any other human being on this planet. He had his good side and his bad side, just like all of us. He was generous, kind and supportive when he wanted to be, just like all of us. He was a mean bastard when he wanted to be, just like all of us.

My father was just like all of us. He was a human being. Some things I grew to hate about him and some things I grew to love about him. I know I miss him. Probably the biggest thing he taught me, even though he didn’t know he taught it to me, is that every person has value. Every person is someone’s child. Every person deserves to be loved and respected just because they exist. We don’t have to agree with everyone. We don’t have to hang out with people we don’t agree with. We don’t have to do anything we don’t like or want to do, not even love and respect people. But this world will be a far better place if people would realize that you can love and respect someone and still disagree with them. We can do that with everyone. But starting out loving everyone, even strangers, will put us in a far different place than starting out anywhere else.

I miss you dad! We should’ve hung out more, had more dinners together, watched more television together and went to more ballgames together. Then we could’ve argued about all the things we didn’t agree on more often. I loved to hate your opinions; I loved to hate the way you treated some people; I loved to hate some of the things you did. In the end, I miss you and I love you. Maybe next lifetime we can hang out more!e hehhhdhasdfioajh