Dad

My dad is the happiest guy you’d ever want to meet.  I’ve never met anyone else who seemed to truly have everything he ever wanted.  Except maybe for my mother.  The only thing I can think of him complaining about anytime recently was the saddle that came with his new road bike a few weeks ago.  Aside from the obvious of loving his family, he loves his job and the people he works with, he loves the lake house he had built two years ago that was beyond any dream I think he ever had, he loves his boat and driving around the lake in it while playing the soundtrack to “On Golden Pond.”   He loves going around the lake in his kayak, good restaurants, good wine, and he absolutely loves riding his bike. 

Dad spent this past week having probably the best week he’s ever had at the lake house.  It was a somewhat unplanned vacation as originally he was going to be off the week after Labor Day.  Things had come up for that week and he wouldn’t be able to stay every day, and this past week, each day became more gorgeous than the last.  90 degrees and sunny, 93 degrees and sunny, 94 and sunny…. sunny, sunny, hot and sunny.  Taking Monday off became Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and while we’re at it, let’s just take make a week of it.  It was a week of the best summer weather we’ve probably ever had. 

Dad is a creature of habit.  He gets up early every morning, makes his coffee, proceeds to immediately put it in the microwave to heat it to epic-high temperatures that nobody else could ever drink it, pours it in a travel mug and takes his Boston Whaler down to the country store to pick up the morning papers.  Once he comes home and has breakfast, usually next he gets on his bike and rides anywhere from 35-50 miles, sometimes less if he doesn’t have time, depending on how he’s feeling.  He does this every single morning he has the opportunity if he’s not working. Sometimes lately he’d come back from work early enough to get in a quick ride, which he never used to do.  But he seems to have grown to love it even more lately so he seizes all opportunities.  Earlier this week Dad had finished a bike ride up, smiled at me and told me that the more he got to ride, the more he loved it.  Dad and I used to ride together all the time until I started training a little too seriously and he started using the excuse that he was getting older.  I never bought that.  My Dad doesn’t get old. 

Post-ride he will often jump right into the lake in his bike shorts, but either way he will be in his bathing suit soon after and ready for whatever he feels like doing that day.  If the water is calm he might take out the kayak, the plants might need watering because it hasn’t rained much in who knows how long, or maybe it’s straight to the back of the boat to lie down and take a little nap while floating on the waves.  But again, no matter what he fills the late morning with, lunch is at precisely 12 noon, no matter what.   Sometime probably two years ago at about 11:15 he had wound down from a long bike ride and looked at me and said, “I’m so hungry, I wish I could have my lunch now.”  I informed him that it was perfectly acceptable to eat lunch earlier than noon if you were hungry and just that once he made an exception.

Most afternoons he takes his Chris Craft boat out.  He’s had this boat for a few years now and I don’t think he’s ever happier than when he’s driving that boat around Squam Lake.  Usually Mom is sitting up front, reading a book.  And if I’m around I’ll be up there, too. Or of course if my brother or sister and her family are up, we might all go out. Sometimes they stop somewhere to swim for a bit or pick blueberries, Dad’s favorite.  Sometimes they just drive around at low speeds.  It really doesn’t matter to Dad, as long as he’s on the lake.  But almost without fail when the boat slows to the no-wake zone between these two islands, he will play the “On Golden Pond” theme song, which is the only music he allows to be played on his boat’s great sound system.  The song lasts precisely the amount of time it takes to get from one end of the channel to the other, and when Dad gets to drive people around the lake, it is obviously his favorite part of the tour.

The rest of the afternoon could be spent just lying in the sun some more or sitting on the dock talking to mom or just looking at the lake.  He says all the time how much he just loves looking at the lake, and I can’t say I blame him. It’s one of the reasons why he wants to spend every moment possible at that house, even if it makes his commute an hour instead of ten minutes and he might not even be back long enough to enjoy the daylight.   Often his lake-watching is done with a fresh pour from his kegerator, another favorite addition to his favorite house. 

He and Mom will have their pre-dinner cocktails on the porch, and in the summer he always has a Beefeater gin and tonic.  Although he does love going out to dinner, he also loves eating dinner on the porch at the house, which is where most dinners occurred this week.  Except for one night when he and Mom took some food out on the boat and ate on the water.  This past Monday I actually had dinner with them out at Walter’s Basin and we took the boat over to their dock. 

I spent the entire week at the house with my parents.  Fell asleep in the lounge chair next to his while he napped one morning in the sun, went out on the boat, watched him come and go from his bike rides on his new bikes.  He has two right now because he somehow managed to crack the titanium frame of the other one he had for 8 years but was too impatient to wait for the lifetime warrantee replacement, so he bought a new one right away so he wouldn’t have to be without riding for too long.  Aside from plenty of great bike rides this week, Dad also spent a few hours out on the kayak, which isn’t something he does often unless he is acting as my Sherpa for a long training swim.  My aunts and uncle came up at the end of the week and had a nice dinner on the porch which they followed up with incredible stargazing.  And on Saturday night my sister came to the house with my niece and nephew and she had a nice dinner with my parents.  I had eaten a bit earlier because I was doing a sprint race in the morning. 

Sunday morning I awoke fairly early to eat my pre-race breakfast in the comfort of the house because the race start was at 8am and 3 miles down the road—biking distance.  As I choked down the applesauce Dad emerged to start the coffee and gave me his usual enthusiastic pre-race vibe.  Dad comes to watch lots of my races.  And fortunately he is a creature of habit at those, too, so in years of doing certain races multiple times, always know exactly where I’ll see him.  In Lake Placid: I find him and mom in the same spot by the water every year, which is always comforting pre-race to be able to talk to them and hug them before the race and get one final “Good luck” before I brave the treacherous Ironman mass start.  After the swim he’s on the hill by transition (extra fortunate this year because my mom prevented me from running down the wrong row to get my bike).  After the first loop of the bike they’re at the top of the hill just before I turn back to start loop two past the Olympic Training Center.  When I finish the bike he is always right there at the bike dismount and I’ll never forget him yelling for me almost like an excited little kid when I came off and was about to take the lead.  Dad never gets like that, really…. Unless the Patriots win the Superbowl.

 

Then there are their standard spots on the run course, this year he told me on loop #1 to straighten out my hat (usually more of a Mom-thing, but that’s ok) and he is always right there after I finish, whether it’s earlier than anticipated, or much later. 

So in his travels to see me on Lake Winnipesaukee or Lake Placid or even all the way in Hawaii, it was no surprise that he’d take the short drive down the road to watch me race that morning.  By the time I left the house he had already gone on his newspaper run, and as I crossed the bridge over the channel on my bike, I saw him in the boat headed back to the house. 

This particular race is small and extremely low-key, so it didn’t take long to set up my transition area and head towards the water where of course I saw Dad waiting for me.  Thankfully he was there to help me zip up my wetsuit before I went to the water.  I heard him yelling when I was coming out of the water, heading out on the bike, finishing the bike and of course and of course finishing the race.  Due to the slack nature of transition area security, I had barely thrown my jacket on when he came in to find me and tell me good job even though I didn’t really do a good job, but that’s what he does. 

So that’s one reason why that day he didn’t go out on his bike ride first thing in the morning like he usually does.  Once I got home he was doing some things around the house and later had lunch.  My sister and the kids said goodbye and headed home.  Sometime after that, Dad went on his bike and Mom got a phone call from the hospital and was told he had been in an accident and was airlifted to Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center, where we spent three agonizing days wondering what was going to happen to him.  We were told right away that he was probably quadriplegic, had broken his neck and nobody knew how long he was without oxygen to his brain because he was found not breathing and without a heartbeat.  After a brief glimmer of hope when he had started moving his legs a bit, we had to meet with the neurologist who showed us the MRI and told us that he had suffered extensive brain damage.  Also being without the ability to breathe on his own, we had to make the decision to terminate life support.  There were several more hours of agonizing waiting while they got him ready for organ donation, so at least someone, or likely two people, will be benefiting from Dad's kidneys.  His heart was in great shape as well, but he was over the age limit for donation on that end.  And at about 9:20 on September 8th, 2010, we were with him when he left us.  

Whatever winds up happening, at the moment it is a huge comfort knowing that the entire summer but specifically the past week has been about as close to perfect as it gets for Dad.  Almost as if you asked him to design the perfect week at the lake, that would’ve been it.  The only thing he didn’t get was one more dinner at the Woodshed, his favorite lakes region restaurant, where we were supposed to go on Sunday night.  Everything else couldn’t have been better and I’m sure that’s how he would’ve wanted it.

Dad, we love you and will miss you terribly.  You touched the lives of so many people over the years, and I don't think I truly realized how many until we had this outpouring of support over the past few days.  But we will be ok only because you made us that way.