Three Stories About My Dad

The woman was trying to express her thoughts, but, the words were not there. That happens sometimes in life. I listened politely because she was saying nice things and she had taken the time to call me, because it was important to her that I hear the words. She was talking about my Dad. It was a few months after his death in March, 1996. They had worked together. It was my Dad's last job before retirement. By then, Dad was just biding his time until he reached 62. He worked around a lot of younger people, and, being his age, he became a Father Figure to them. It was a role he played most of his life. Dad was the type of person whom you told your life story to. He listened well, and, when asked, gave his advice on what to do. It was always solid and sensible advice. This woman on the phone[ and, please forgive me, but, I do not remember her name] had just heard that my Dad had died a few months earlier. They had not really kept in contact after he retired, but, when she heard of his death, she had to call the family. I took the call and right away she started by apologizing for any disturbance she may be causing me by bringing up his recent passing. She just wanted to tell me how much she valued him as a friend and their time together. She was newly married when they worked together and was unsure about whether she married the right man. She had questioned whether the marriage was going to work and whether there was going to be a lifetime of happiness like my Mom and Dad had. She told me that my Dad was very understanding and encouraging to her. He cautioned against jumping the gun too quickly and pulling the plug on her marriage. Dad was a romantic. He wanted people to be in love and to stay together. So, he advised total communication and honesty. Never go to bed mad at each other. Do not run away from a problem. Confront the problem and solve it, however painful it may be. And, because of his way of talking-- from his good, sweet heart-- she was convinced to give her new husband more time. When I spoke with her, not only was she still married, but, had two small children. On the phone that day, she wanted me to know what a difference he made in her life and how forever grateful she was that she listened to him. Without his talking to her, she said, most likely, she would not have her children. And, then, she started to cry. She said that when she heard that he had died she felt like her own father had died. Naturally, I started to cry, too. We were two strangers on the phone crying together, linked together by my father. He would have cried with us.... In the summer of 1991, while I was still trying to get something going in acting, I got a call one day from the casting agency where I was registered . They asked me if I would be an extra in a new Spike Lee Nike commercial. I was doing a lot of extra work then, so, I took the job. Well, my Dad called the agency and asked if they needed anyone else for the commercial. They said yes, and, I had a partner that day to work with. The commercial was shot at the old Chicago Stadium. Maybe, you remember the commercial. It was after the Bulls had won their first title. The Nike commercial slogan was, ''It's Gotta Be The Shoes!'' Dad and I drove down there together. Naturally, there was laughs in the car ride. Dad was always fun to drive with. His comments were always worthy of a stand-up comic. We got to the Stadium and sat with 400 of our new friends. And, true to form, almost immediately, Dad started making friends with everyone. He loved to meet and talk to new people. The young guys thought he was super cool, the women wanted to hug and kiss him. If there was a star in the crowd that day, it wasn't Spike Lee. It was James Martin Scoleri. It was a simple and fast shoot. Spike Lee came out and had us cheer on cue. Then, he took his spot in the crowd and jumped up. The crowd was told to jump up after him, which we did. I jumped to me feet, and at the same time, I looked over at Dad on my right. He was waving and smiling and was genuinely excited to be in the commercial.This was his first and only brush with show-business and he seemed to be having the time of his life. The shoot went quickly and we were soon on our way home. The reason this incident has stayed in my memory is that not long after Dad developed his cancer. He was never really the same after that. The infectious joy that was in his soul left his body and he was shattered. That summer day in 1991 was the last time he was truly himself. Now, I think of his beautiful smile that day and I smile... Over this past weekend, my good friend James lost his father. His Dad was a lot like my Dad. Even in appearance. I went to the wake and paid my respects. My buddy Mike, also a childhood friend of mine like James, was telling his girlfriend a story about my Dad that I had not thought of in years. When we were in 8th grade and made our Confirmation, there was a bunch of practice drills we did in the days preceding the ceremony. One long Saturday afternoon, we were all stuck in church and we were all starving. Sure enough, my Dad, our hero,  came to our rescue. In the back few pews, while the priests were giving the blessing, my Dad brought all of us Oreo cookies to eat. We were overjoyed!!! So, while the loyal flock were taking communion, we were eating cookies. Dad smiled that beautiful smile of his and then he was gone. To this day, it remains a treasured story to my friend Mike. Nothing radical, but, just a sweet gesture for his son and his son's friends. When Brother Mike told the story the other night, he concluded it by saying, ''Jim's Dad was the best!!!'' Yes, he was Michael. Yes, he was... These short stories somehow have a connecting tissue to them. They are only small little nuggets of a much larger portrait that was my Dad. They show you a little of his gentle soul. Hopefully, you also have a father like this that you can tie similar stories to. I am telling these now because March is coming up in a few weeks and it is the anniversary of his passing again. Not a day goes by that my Dad is not in my thoughts and in my heart. I am biased, I know. I am entitled to be. He was the Greatest Man I Ever Have Known. I miss him. I miss his goodness. I miss his love for my Mom and for us kids. I miss his love for his friends and people he cared about. I miss his advice, for no man ever gave out better advice than my Dad-- as that woman on the phone also knew. The world also misses him. He had a spirit and love that the world needs more of.... And, I miss that smile that I saw that day at the Stadium. It was the smile of an angel.... I am sure he is smiling now....