Dear Dad: I Finally Understand
The calm demeanor I inherited from my father helped me cope with a job loss
Editor’s note: This essay is part of Telling Our Stories: Reflections on the Pandemic. We invited readers to share their experiences of the past year, and selected 12 essays for publication on Next Avenue. Read the full collection.
When I was growing up, it seemed like my dad was the oldest parent in the neighborhood. And he probably was. He was 44 when I was born. I was the third of three girls.
By the time I was an awkward adolescent who morphed into a moody teenager, I questioned my dad's laid-back existence. For some reason, it bothered me that he would just sit there, on a broken and slanty old cushiony rocker on our front porch, and sip coffee. He just stared outside and watched as maybe a car or two would drive by on our little street of bungalows.
Had I not inherited my dad's demeanor, I would have been way too anxious over these months of quarantine.
He was a tall and imposing figure. When he sat, his knees were high, like the Lincoln Memorial statue. People called him a gentle giant. He had been a World War II veteran of Pearl Harbor.
After the war, he got a job on the loading dock of the Joseph Schlitz Brewery in Milwaukee.
He spent all of his working years in this hard-labor position. He lifted heavy cases of beer all day, every day, so we could have a decent life.
I didn't realize or appreciate all of that at the time. I just kept wondering why he spent his idle time looking out the window while my mom cleaned the house or made meals. Why aren't you doing something?, I thought.
The years passed, and so did he. We all went on with our lives, working hard and raising children. When the pandemic hit in 2020 and many of us began working from home, I learned that my job in marketing and communications was going to be eliminated. I was 60 and about to be unemployed for the first time in 30 years. I couldn't imagine any of this.
One day, I just sat there, drinking coffee and looking outside. And that's when something shifted in me. I had become my dad, but in ways of which I am now proud.
I realized that his laid-back demeanor came from years of hard work and hustling and raising children. His body was tired. His big knees were shot. The warm coffee and solace were in some ways his form of meditation.
I wish I could say, "I get it, Dad. I love you. I now understand those few moments that you got to spend in calmness. Because you deserved it."
If there is any learning from this past year, perhaps it was the opportunity to take a step back and reflect on what is important and who is important, and not to take anything for granted.
Had I not inherited my dad's demeanor, I would have been way too anxious over these long months of quarantine. And I probably wouldn't have taken the time to reconnect with so many valued people in my life.
So instead, I look forward to every morning brew and each new day as an opportunity to grow and appreciate all that is around me. Thank you, Dad.
I am a 61-year-old mother of two grown children. I've spent more than 30 years in the fast-paced world of marketing and communications. However, I've spent this past year contemplating life, while looking out the window of my Brookfield, Wisc. home. Read More
