During my father's terminal illness, he had incoherent moments.  He lost his ability to speak and write and often would get stuck on certain words, repeating them over and over.  It would take days to figure out what he was trying to communicate.  He got stuck on the word "opportunity" and for weeks he would go around repeating it.  We couldn't figure out what he was trying to say to us until my sister (the middle child of five) figured out on her night to watch him.  She told us the following morning the good news.  He was trying to tell his family to take the opportunity when it arises to tell the person that you love them.  He was trying to take the opportunity to tell us that he loved us.  We all cried over that heartfelt moment.  It saddens me that my family has not  heeded his dieing words for they continue  on in their grudge holding. 

Dad had moments of lucidity and clairvoyance.  He had told my oldest sister he was only going to be on this planet for two more weeks.  My sister left for Massachusetts the following morning, and he died two weeks from the day she left.  Dad also told us that he was going to the big dipper in the sky.  Here was evidence that he, who once was an agnostic scientist, had developed some spirituality.  Is their more to that big dipper than we humans know?   Dad apparently new something we did not.  The big dipper is now a symbol of love for me.  I look for it in the night sky and I always yell out "I love you Dad," when I behold its beauty.

My father was a good man with wonderful morals.  Although he was not a Christian, he held Christian morals and values and lived by them to the utmost of his ability.  I have always carried much pride with me knowing that he was my father.  Although an impatient man, he had a unique way of connecting with people and leaving them with a lasting impression.  He was a man of his word, and always tried to approach life from a practical point of view.  I came to appreciate him when I reached adulthood.

My father involved himself with his children and spent time taking us camping, fishing, hunting and hiking.  He put tools in our hands and we learned the joy of yard work.  He put a hammer in our hands and taught us the joy of creating something from nothing.  Dad spent quality one-on-one time with all five of us children.  I can't count the fishing trips that  dad and I took.  I don't know how many times he took me to the park to work on my softball skills.  Just him and I.  We worked on batting, fielding, throwing, and pitching often.  As a matter of fact, it was Dad who taught me how to pitch a softball - something I excelled in during my teens and early twenties. 

During those one-on-one moments with Dad, we have had many heart-to-heart talks.  I've seen him cry, which wasn't often.  There is one talk we had that I shall never forget.  We took a trip to San Diego for a an all-day fishing excursion off the Coronado islands.  On the drive to California, we got on the topic of sex and I had told him that I found more pleasure in fishing than I did sex. He chuckled at my comment and then shared a wonderful story  about a date that he had with Mom.  He had taken her to Lake Moreno, California to do some fishing.  He put a bell on the tip of his rod so he could give Mom some quality. The sound of the bell meant "fish!"  He could stop what he was doing and tend to the fishing rod.  He new he had to devote some of his attention to Mom on this date, so the bell allowed him leave his pole unattended and partake in a kissing session.  He said they were necking when that bell sounded, and he didn't hesitate for an instant. He dropped Mom and was at the rod in seconds.  He said that Mom found humor in that and commented on how he dropped her like a hot potato when the fish were biting.  She said she knew she would have competition, but never from a fish, rod, and reel.  I enjoyed this story and understood the underlying message.  He, too, found pleasure in fishing and  would opt for fishing over physical intimacy if the opportunity arose.  We both shared the love of fishing.