Like Father, Like Son

As you can see in my pic I am the proud father of a 4 1/2 year old boy. Don't fooled by the cute look though, he is quite a handful. His teacher nicknamed him "The Ringleader" for his ability to get other kids hyped up and acting like lunatics while keeping his own hands clean. It must be that old Italian Mafia stuff still left in our DNA. I still carry a great deal of guilt over not being there everyday to guide him. I get depressed sometimes for walking out of his life and leaving him without a father in the home. So when he makes a mistake I blame myself more than I blame him. As much as I didn't want to leave, it was inevitable. His mother and I had a very rocky relationship, but that is another story. The mistakes he makes are the same ones I made in my youth. His outrageous personality, his egotistic attitude, his love of a good argument, they are proof positive that he is my boy. No blood test needed. Like father, like son.

Let me start by saying that I never wanted children. I was with my son's mother for about 7 years and we were told multiple times that she could not get pregnant. The doctor was obviously a lying son of an onion because lo' and behold... a child is born.

I will say that being a father is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. The joys of fatherhood are countless. It is hard to even begin to describe the pure, immense, incredible love that is shared between a father and a son. The emotional highs are far greater than I had never felt possible. There is also an equally immense sadness when you realize that your main job as a father is to teach your child independence, to teach them not to need you, to prepare them for the day that they walk out your door into their own home, with their own kids and their own life. As much as I love the way he runs to me for a hug when he is hurt, I know that someday I won't be that person anymore. As much as I want to protect him from the world, someday he will have to fight his own battles. As much as I want to hold him close and have him be my little boy forever, I have to teach him to let go of me and be his own man... and it breaks my heart every time I think of it.

I learned a lot about what it meant to be a father and a man from my grandfather. He always told me to treasure the people you love because one day that person will be gone. That didn't mean much to me when I was young and invincible, but the day he died it really hit me hard. He was a very stern man, very loud, very Italian, but he loved my brothers and I very much. He gave everything he had, he hobbled to every baseball game, he suffered in silence, he gave of himself so we could have more. He knew he had cancer, he knew he was going to die, but I never saw the slightest sign of weakness. He made it clear that he wanted to spend his remaining time with the people he treasured, he wanted his last days to be with his family, to see those smiles, to hear those voices. He wanted to pass on his wisdom to those he loved the most. And the day they laid him in the ground, I realized that I had just lost the greatest man that ever lived.

The one thing that sticks with me the most is that my grandfather was the one person who could scold me, argue with me, yell at me, but at the end of the day he always made me feel important. He taught me that love was when you totally disagreed with someone but would still give your life for them. It was arguing for hours over something and still giving each other a hug before bedtime. It was being so frustrated with someone that you wish they would just shut up but then missing their voice when they were gone. He taught me that the greatest treasures are the ones no one can take from you, your family, your memories, hearing your child laugh and smile, watching your son open presents on his birthday, laughing at stupid movies and corny jokes. And even though I cried for days when he left me, now the tears are gone and all I have are the memories… and they really are the greatest treasures in the world.

In his honor I named my son after him in the hopes that my boy would someday become a great man like my grandfather. He never got to see my son, but I know he would be proud of him. Death was the end of his physical body but this great man lives on in me, and my son, and I carry the family name proudly because of him.

So all you moms and dads, hug those little ones. Love them dearly, and always let them know they are important. Let them know that no matter what happens, no matter how many mistakes they make, they will always be a treasure to someone.

And just so you know Grandpa, I still miss you terribly.