Remembering A Real Hero

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. The Denver Broncos will take on the Seattle Seahawks at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey at 5:30pm. The game will undoubtedly produce one or more heroes. It might be Peyton Manning, Marshawn Lynch or even, gasp, Richard Sherman. Past Super Bowls have produced heroes like Bart Starr, Terry Bradshaw and Joe Montana. But the hero that I am remembering never played in the Super Bowl. This man was a real hero.

My Dad, My Hero

Tomorrow, February 3 is the anniversary of the day my Dad passed on to be with God. Evidently God needed him “up there” more than we did down here. It has been 1460 days and I have thought about him every one of those days. Some of those thoughts cause me to smile. Great big smiles. Other times they bring tears to my eyes. Great big tears. I guess that’s what happens when you love someone as much as I loved my Dad. I still do. I miss him a lot. 

I know that I am not alone in missing and loving Dad. That goes without saying. Just the other day, Mom was talking to me about the time Dad bought her a stuffed hippo for Valentine’s Day. It got quiet for a while as we both wiped our eyes.

While, he might have been a bit reserved when it came to public displays of affection, be assured that Dad deeply touched the hearts of all those close to him. Just ask his wife and children or any of his brothers. Ask his sister-in-laws, nephews, nieces, grandchildren, cousins, and friends…

You get the picture; he touched the hearts of many people.

Dad never did things just for show; he wasn’t trying to impress anybody. But he certainly impressed me. I marveled at how he would do whatever it took to make his family happy. Dad did things because he cared. He was brought up that way. He didn’t know any other way.

We were all so blessed.

If Dad wasn’t touching you with his actions, he was doing it with a corny joke or that silly look that he inherited from his Pop, my Grandpa ‘Noni. Dad had an exceptional ability to express his love without uttering a single word. You just knew he loved you. It was a wonderful thing.

Although he wasn’t trying to, Dad made a lasting impression on all those who knew him. This was evidenced when my folks, celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on June 30th, 2006. After they renewed their vows at a 5:00 mass at St. Peter’s Catholic Church, the celebration moved over to the Moose Lodge.

Before the dinner, Uncle John, Dad’s brother and my Godfather, made a toast to the guests of honor. Uncle John, not known for his public speaking, delivered a memorable speech that was both eloquent and heartfelt.

During his touching talk, he mentioned that Dad had always been his hero. As he explained why he considered Dad his hero, tears began streaming down my cheeks. There weren’t a lot of dry eyes after Uncle John finished his moving tribute.

1461 days ago, tears were again streaming down my cheeks for Uncle John’s hero. This time for a much different reason. That is when my Dad passed away. It was February 3, 2010.

That same February 3, 2010, I phoned Uncle John and wished him a happy birthday. It was kind of tough and emotional. Despite the circumstances, I knew that it was something should do. I wanted to. His hero would have wanted me to.

I plan on calling my Uncle John up tomorrow to wish him a happy birthday. It will be a little easier this time; we have a hero praying for us. I really miss that hero.

I love you Dad.

Dear God, please remember our brothers and sisters who have gone to their rest in the hope of rising again; may you bring them and all the departed into the light of your presence.

Until next time…from the booth.