On Sunday we tip our hats to our fathers. I’m not going to lie; I’m not looking forward to Sunday at all. It’s only been four months since my Dad passed away and the pain is still felt deep in my heart. I was lucky to have such a great father. 

Some folks may not have a traditional Dad. But a father is not defined simply by blood or DNA. A father is defined by their character and what they do for their families. He ain’t going to like it but I will use my brother as a perfect example.

My brother Frank has raised a few kids that were not his biological kids. But my brother made sure those kids had a roof over their heads, food in their bellies and more importantly unconditional love! 

Every minute of work, sweat and tears my brother shed was to give HIS kids a better chance at life, something he undoubtably learned from our Dad. He taught those kids to tie their shoelaces, swim, drive, be independent thinkers, and to be compassionate. When they were sick, he tended to them. When they needed help, he never turned his back – to this Day!

After Dad passed away at the end of February, mom, Frank, and I had planned a huge shindig for Dad. An entire weekend of honoring and celebrating his life with great food, friends, and family and, of course, a few beers (meaning several) and libations (lots of drinks). But within days of Dad’s passing the world was placed on lock-down due to the pandemic. Dad’s huge to-do would have to wait.

And we’re still waiting. 

I know I’m not the only person who will be missing their father come Sunday. I guess the best we can do is still treasure all the wonderful memories we shared while still together. Like the time when Dad took the training wheels off my bicycle. He stayed with me until I learned to balance and ride on my own without falling. Or when I was just a tiny little girl but wanted to dance with Dad during family gatherings. He would let me stand on his feet and dance. It was usually just a few minutes here and there but for me it felt like hours of him swinging me back and forth and twirling me around. I loved that and he knew it.

And the countless times he took me fishing or crabbing. I think I enjoyed those fishing trips more than my brother did. He taught me how to hook my own bait, cast a line and reel in a catch. 

Dad taught me how to ride a horse, how to shoot a rifle, drive a stick shift (that took a while) use a machete (to clear ground when camping) start a campfire, steer a boat and cook a whole hog in a fire pit.

Now those were some great times. Roasting a whole hog was a tradition for Christmas Eve. The process started Dec. 23. Dad would bring home a whole pig that was already split down the middle. Mom and I would marinate the pig and Dad and my uncle would go out back to dig out the pit and set up the special roasting box Dad designed. On the morning of Dec. 24, around 7 a.m., with the fire ready to go, Dad and my uncle would place the pig in the pit, cover it up and the day-long festivities would begin. The pig would cook the whole day. By evening time all the family had gathered at our house and Dad would be the center of attention as he sliced up the meat and offered the scrumptious perfectly toasted skin to our guests. He always gave me the best part of the skin and meat! Those family parties would extend well into the next day.

Dad taught me to always be kind to others and to treat people the way you wanted to be treated. He gave me his great sense of humor, empathy and compassion. He always encouraged me to reach for the stars no matter how crazy my ideas were.

He SPOILED me for sure!

If I wanted a pink Huffy Motocross-styled bicycle for my birthday, I got it. When I cried because I wanted to see Mickey Mouse in person, we loaded up the family station wagon and Dad took us to Disney World. When I wanted to see the mountains, Dad bought an RV and to the mountains we went!

My Dad was the type of man that would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He worked hard for everything he got and made a great home for his family. Yeah, I was lucky to have my Dad. Just as much as I know how lucky my brother’s kids are to have him, exemplifying what a great father looks like. I hope you all take some time to honor the Fathers in your life – whoever that father figure might be.

Patty Leon 

Senior Editor, Coastal Courier.