As I lay awake in bed this morning, wide awake at 2am with a throbbing headache, I remembered something my mom mentioned to me the night before – that I inherited my multi-day headaches from my dad. And that got me thinking about him and all the other things I learned from him.
It’s been more than 18 years since he passed away. He died of kidney cancer the day after my birthday in 1990 at age 57. Now, as I get older, it seems like he died at such a young age. He went downhill so fast in the three months it took for the cancer to take over his body. He was diagnosed in June and died September 9.
His name was Joseph, but everyone called him Jake. He served in the U.S. Air Force for 20 years and was gone most of my younger years. Towards the end of his service he was stationed at Eglin Air Force Base in the panhandle and would come home on weekends every other week. I remember standing at the window screaming and crying as he left to go back each Sunday.
Look how happy I am!
We were a pretty typical, middle-class family. My dad and I were very close, whereas my mom and brother were very close. When dad finally got out of the military he went to work at Winter Park Telephone Company and returned to night school to continue his education. We lived in many different houses during my childhood located in either Winter Park or Lockhart. I remember we used to all look forward to Friday nights, because dad would stop at Taco Tico on Lee Road and pick up a bag full of $.25 tacos and we’d gorge on tacos for dinner. (that might explain my weight issues.)
As I grew older and got my driver’s license, my dad came to my rescue several times when I stupidly locked my keys in the car. He would show up with a spare key and never complain about it. God bless him because I would have been really mad if I had to get up and go out after working all day.
Taken at a shop at the Village at Lake Buena Vista, now known as Downtown Disney.
We spent many a vacation at Disney World. We’d stay at the Contemporary or the Polynesian where we had a blast in the pools! One day at the Magic Kingdom at the Diamond Horseshoe Revue dad was pulled up on stage by one of the can-can girls and got so embarrassed, but you just know he was loving every minute of it. He loved to flirt with beautiful girls in a shy, bashful manner, never was it demeaning or embarrassing to my mom.
When we didn’t vacation at Disney, we went to Daytona Beach. Dad, with his Polish connections, knew a motelier in Daytona Beach Shores and we’d always stay at their place. It was a big family vacation, with us, my grandmother, my uncle, aunt and my four cousins. Dad would dive into the ocean and bring up conch shells for us kids. Later in the day, it was a ritual for the men to bring out their fishing lines and do some shore fishing. I honestly don’t recall them ever catching anything.
Randie, Dad, me and my brother Johnny
I graduated from Rollins College in May 1990. This is one of the last pictures of Dad where he looks healthy. It was about 3 weeks after this photo was taken that he want to the eye doctor complaining of vision problems. At first they just diagnosed it as “old age” and gave him new glasses. A couple weeks later he still had the same problem so they sent him to a optical neurologist who eventually found 4 small tumors on his brain. More tests revealed those were just the begining of tumor world as more were found all over his body as a result of kidney cancer.
Me, Uncle Al, and Dad - August 1990
Today is not an anniversary of any sort – there were just too many incidents that popped up in the past few days that made me think of him. In today’s Orlando Sentinel there is a story about Danica Patrick and how her dad taught her about the importance of a firm handshake. So did my dad! He always said he never trusted anyone with a wimp handshake. Then on the radio yesterday the Monsters on Real Radio were talking about the 25-cent tacos at Taco Tico. And to top it off, my mom mentioning that I inherited my headaches from my dad.
He definitely died too young. I miss him terribly. His funerals was so crowded they had to open up a new room at the funeral home to allow everyone in to say their good-byes. If you are fortunate enough to still have your dad around – call him up today and tell him how much you love him.
