Fathers Day 2.0

This post was originally supposed to go over the history of my father and my relationship, but after beginning that, I felt it to be too dry and instead will try something else. As most of you know, my biological father, Francis "Frank" Couch, succombed to his battle with cancer last Friday. This post is for him.

I have few regrets in life, but last Friday I added one more to my list: I never told my biological father that I loved him. I did, and I know the feelings were mutual, but I never uttered the phrase. I think that maybe we said it in man code, like at midnight when he said "I'd rather you not leave tonight" and "are you sure you're good to go?" I called him Dad, once, on Christmas, when I said "Merry Christmas, Dad." He didn't say anything back to that, not sure if he was emotionally overwhelmed or if he just wasn't sure how to reply. We had many a conversation, over the phone, and sometimes, when the opportunity arose, in person. We talked about the past, the present and the future. We spoke of his shenanigans as a child and adult, we spoke of his succeses and his failures, and we spoke of mine equally.  The day of the funeral, we went to eat after the funeral, and I was asking everyone their favorite memories of Frank, what they will most fondly recall when they think of him. The answers varied, from fishing to driving, to holidays. They all held one thing in common, however, and that was his never ending sense of humor. When I look back on the time I spent with Frank, I most fondly recall an evening at the Cancer Treatment Center, when he, my wife and I all had rather smelly flatulance. We were all farting and laughing, having a grand old time, and Frank was laughing so hard it hurt him, literally. That is the Frank I will always remember, loving life and loving to laugh no matter how hard life may be. I only hope to epitomize that. 

Frank and I spoke for quite a while on Christmas, and we spoke of the future, and our hopes for it. Unfortunately, I will never get to spend a Christmas with my biological father. I will never share a beer with him, smoke a cigar, celebrate my big promotion at work, or go fishing, which was one of his true joys in life. One thing that I do not regret in life at all is the 18 months I had to get to know my father. I will cherish those conversations and memories forever, and I am glad to have known him.