14 Years

This past Wednesday was the 14th anniversary of my father's death. 14 years is a long time. It just sounds long. Especially when you consider that I was 16 when he passed away. In only 2 years he will have been gone as long as I knew him. I've been feeling the need to honor my father, but I'm not sure how. Posting about him may be a way.

My father was a computer programmer. He had a degree in mathematics, since computer science didn't really exist when he went to school. He worked for the CSC, Amex, Tandem, DEC, and Ingres. Oracle kept courting him to come and work for them, but he refused. Heh. Somehow that makes me feel good, considering all that is going on with PeopleSoft right now. Ingres named a conference room after him.

My father hated working with IBM computers. We never could afford a Mac, but I like to think that if he had lived, we would have gotten one some day. I often wonder what he would think of the state of computing now. I know he would have loved the internet. I can remember him sending email back in the early 80's.

My father was a tennis player. He was captain of the tennis team in college. He was involved with the local tennis club in Newtown. For awhile (I don't know if it's still true) they named their annual tournament after him. My father was one of those annoying men who never gained weight. He could skip breakfast and loose a couple of pounds. Of all the things I inherited from him (the Berlingo large big toe, my height, the dark color of my hair), why couldn't I have inherited that as well?

My father was a very kind man. When he worked in New York City, he always packed an extra sandwich or piece of fruit to give to the homeless. He volunteered at a woman's shelter in the City and used to spend a night a month down there. He helped to keep order over night. He always seemed to have time to talk with teenages in his church that needed someone to talk to. He used to stop and talk to the missionaries that he'd see on the subway. He was always willing to stop and talk.

My father knew how to juggle. He was a very good juggler. He could juggle many objects as well as clubs. I don't think he ever juggled fire, but he did "juggle" a chainsaw once for a church talent show. He, my brother, and another man tossed a chainsaw back and forth to each other.

My father also had a terrible sense of humor. He loved puns and word play. He told the worst jokes. He loved Brittish humor - I saw Monty Python and Faulty Towers when I was still in elementary school.

I miss my father. There's so much in my life that I wish I could show him and share with him and talk with him about. I know that he's been there for all the important times in my life, since I keep him in my heart. But it's still not the same as having him living and breathing next to me.