Losing My Dad

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May 30th, 2018, I lost my Father, Angelo, “Red,” to his friends, Pop to me.  He was 100 years old. An amazing man, he lived a healthy life, and enjoyed his work as a golf pro.  For 70 years he worked at one club and loved every day of it. My Mother had passed five years previously, a fabulous Greek lady, amazing cook and avid reader.  She was the most intelligent person I had ever met. My Dad was the athlete with the beautiful singing voice, sense of rhythm and hilarious sense of humor. He had a way of minimizing situations with one pithy remark.

Both my parents were born in Westchester County, in New York, and to this day, I attribute my “accent” to being a mix of New York and the south side of Chicago.  

Dad wasn’t sick, he just got old.  He didn’t have diabetes, high blood pressure or dementia.  We can attribute this to his Mediterranean diet, active lifestyle and/or good genes.  He was one of 10 children and lived the longest of them all. I think because he loved his job and the people he came in contact with, he was basically very content with his life.

My Mother took care of the bills and maintained the house so he didn’t have to worry about mundane matters.  He liked to boast that he “had never written a check in his life.” Amazing, right? He didn’t use credit cards either.  Like an old timer or someone you might admire in a Martin Scorcese film, he carried a money clip, always filled with 300 bucks, just in case. 

He was a character in the best way possible.  I always thought of Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack when he had a shot of Crown Royal, polished his shoes and made sure he looked fabulous before he set off into the world.

At 95, he stopped driving.  It was a good thing because his reflexes were definitely slowing down.  We didn’t have a big dramatic scene about him giving up his car, because the car died after 10 years and Dad being pragmatic about money, knew he shouldn’t buy another car.  Whew.  

He started to slow up around 98.  His joints hurt, his memory was starting to slip about dates and names, but he always knew us until the very end.

He remained in his beloved home of 56 years until the last 30 days of his life.