Today We Bury My Father

Today We Bury My Father

Today is the final in a series of goodbyes that have spanned this past decade - a chapter we will call ‘The Alzheimer’s Years’.

What started imperceptibly with a forgotten name here and a repeated sentence there, over time, ended with dad forgetting everything.  

The forgetting has now finally come to its inglorious end. 

So today, I remember my father.  

I want to share what I remember to those of you who may have never met him.

My father’s life can be summed up in a word:

KINDNESS

He cared for those placed in his charge.

He was a fierce defender and I always knew that my father was in my corner.

He had my best interests in mind.

He taught me what it meant to be a man, not with words, but with actions.

My father was not competitive with me.

My father was secure enough to cheer for me.

He was also first to give voice to when he knew I could do better.

But…. he never crushed my spirit.

A sign of a good coach is to get the most out of their players. So, in that way, my father was much like a good coach.

And indeed, this is my own goal for my seven children - to not crush their spirits as I cheer them on to greatness.

My visual picture of fatherhood is down on my hands and knees to provide a higher pedestal for my own children to reach new heights.

Dad never said this, but from his actions, he had that same picture in his mind.

Thank you for the lift up, dad.

Dad handled the decade prior to the Alzheimer’s Years with dignity and grace, as corporate America reared its disloyal head - a chapter we will call ’The Retirement Years’.

Nothing quite stings like betrayal. And we are all a circumstance of our timing. Dad happened to transition into retirement as the tectonic plates of Corporate America were shifting.

I watched dad re-invent himself in that changing landscape, and I took note.

Dad’s example served me well as I too came to the realization that the Corporate Ladder has been replaced with Corporate Scaffolding

It was my dad who taught me (with his actions) how to pivot in a career.

We are all a circumstance of our timing, and I happen to find myself today teaching online - something that was impossible to do a few short years ago.

And that which dad did privately, I now share publicly … how to pivot in your own career.

For whatever reason, I have been given a platform from which to teach others what I learned from my father - to find relevance in the economy of NOW.

So, as I lay dad down today, the forgetting is finally over.

His legacy reverberates in the halls of history we have yet to make. 

His legacy reverberates in whatever remains of my life, the lives of my wife, my seven children, and my grandchildren; the first of which is due to be born in a matter of weeks.

Here’s the lesson for today, first to myself, and to whomever else may benefit on down the line:

Dad went through a lot. Dad suffered a lot. If dad did know you, he forgot you.

But I misspoke earlier. Dad didn’t forget everything.

In the end, he remembered how to smile.

KINDNESS

Wherever you are today and whatever you are going through right now, your struggle may make no sense in this moment.

You may never live to see the day that your own impact has made, much like my dad.

Time may betray you.

Your memories may fade.

But you have today.

 

 

 

 

 


Leslie Pitts, III

Telco System Administrator at Centerfield Media

4y

Mike, thank you for sharing. May he rest in peace!

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I just saw this Mike.  Terribly sorry for your loss.  I enjoyed reading the brief look into his life and how much he meant to you.  

Mohammad Kazi

CRM Solutions and Cyber Security Consultant

4y

Thanks for sharing and wonderful inspirational person your Father were. Thanks..

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I can totally relate to your story about your Dad. My Daddy was a WWII Veteran and survived the Battle of the Bulge with life-long injuries. He truly was a great man and I'm grateful that I got to be his daughter. We watched Dementia take his memories but never his Spirit. He woke up every day singing despite his injury and the pain he endured every day. Us kids never knew he was a hero with a Silver Star until we were adults. He was humble, loving and I miss him every day. Thank you for helping me remember him.

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