The End of the Line

The day your father dies, many thoughts pass through your mind. He may be at peace, he may have joined his parents, he may have vanished, he may re-incarnate, or maybe none of these things happened. But he absolutely took his last breath in the early morning hours of June 23, 2014 and ceased his existence from the "known".

Here is what passed through my mind on the day my Father died.

There were some good thoughts. He was sharp and street smart. He knew what was going on in the world and he was great at reading financial reports in detail. He was good looking. He had a great head of hair. He loved to eat. Until he was 45 years old, he was a good athlete. He loved and was devoted to his parents. 

There were bad thoughts running through my mind while I scanned my brain for happy memories. They are too few, and mostly from a time when I was too young to really know him as a person. In the 50's, he was just the painting of a Father that he wanted me to see. 

We played catch in the back yard, he took me for ice cream a lot, and when I was in grade school, he got us tickets to 3 or 4 World Series games at Yankee Stadium. He took me out of classes to go to those games in the afternoon. What a Dad!

There were twisted thoughts. He meant well, but that's not really a good thing to say about someone. He said he loved me unconditionally and I certainly tested that love in the 70's and 80's. No matter what I did or said, he never stopped being my devoted Dad. But isn't that what parents are supposed to do? 

He would tell you that he was loyal and a family man. But his actions and words were in conflict. He was a good business man, very friendly with business acquaintances and great with people who were in his life to make money with him and for him. Is that a good thing?

And there were ugly thoughts. My Dad was an unhappy man; depressed and angry. 

He was very emotional, a trait lost on many men. But he was emotionally abusive. He was a generous tipper, but actually that was a selfish act, paving the way for getting you to like him and give him better service. 

He used to accuse my maternal grandfather of always trying to buy my love. I always wanted to tell my Dad, "Ye who liveth in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

My Mom had the truest thought of the day. "He could have had a better life."  

I can honestly say I learned a lot from having Ken Hoffman as my Dad. And I learned all the things you shouldn't do and it drove me to be a better man.

The bottom line is that he was my Dad and now he is gone.