Thank You Dad
“He's wrong, it don't take much strength to pull a trigger but try getting up every morning day after day and work for a living, let's see him try that, then we'll see who the real tough guy is, the working man is the tough guy, your father's the tough guy!”
~ Robert De Niro
A Bronx Tale
The bond between a father and his children is a very important one. It's one of the many life lessons I've learned from my father. Dad is not the kind of guy who will sit and tell you life lessons. He is more of a lead-by-example kind of a guy. Dad never told us to always laugh and have fun throughout your life, no, he just DOES it and I follow his lead.
My mother was my disciplinarian because she had to be. My father was always working. My mother and I have a very unique bond that was formed over her keeping me inline. There were rare occasions that her line of defense was not working and she needed to call my father in for backup. That was the only time I ever had to fear my father. He was the REAL tough guy.
He let my mother handle the day-to-day things because he knew it was easier to allow my mother to do it her way rather than try to help and be accused of doing it “the wrong way”.
Dad's dedication to work ethic is one that I have yet to see surpassed. He worked 6 days a week, and always “had to be up early”. I never quite knew how hard that was until I was older and had to do it myself. We used to hear that he was up at this time or that time to go to work, but as a kid, it went in one ear and out the other.
Dad NEVER missed a day of work! To this day, I can't recall ONE time where he ever called out of work....EVER. I remember implementing this through school earning perfect attendance more years than not. Dad was the real Superman. Nothing stopped him from going to work. If he was sick, he went to work, if it snowed and the roads were dangerous, he went to work, if he stayed out the night before til 2am going to see a band I wished I saw, the next morning....he got up and went to work. I still don't understand how, but he did. He did once tell me that he made the decision that work would not stop him from enjoying life, and it never did. When I first met my wife and was working a crummy job at the mall, she, being the bad influence, would tell me to call out just so we could spend the day together. It was gut-wrenching to me at the time because my father was in the back of my mind and it always made me feel inferior.
My father's job was not a dream job by any stretch of the imagination either. If it was a job that he had wanted to do all his life, I could understand why he would go in every day. No, he was a Deli Manager in a supermarket. He always said he hated his job. Despite that, he went in every day because he had to. When he was younger, his father wasn't around. He was raised by his mother and his grandmother. He is the oldest of four and when his father left, he knew it was up to him to provide and take care of his family. Calling out was not an option, it never was and he maintained that work ethic until he retired.
You may say “work, work work, was that the only side of him you saw”? The truth is, this was the side of him you never saw. To us, he is the fun-loving father who never grew up and we love that about him. After mom was done disciplining me during the day, Dad would come home and the fun began.
As far back as I can remember, we used to have on-going battles of tag through the house. It would start on the top floor, lead into a sprint down the stairs to the living room then down into the rec-room. During one battle, Dad got to the bottom of the stairs in the rec-room and moved before I could get him so I hit the wall causing one of my mother's decorations to fall and break. Immediately, survival mode kicked in for Dad, He said “I hit this walking down the stairs, we were NOT playing around.” I remember thinking he took the fall for me. He protected me. Looking back as an adult, I know that he equally protected himself because he knew he would have been in so much trouble for allowing the horseplay, but I like to keep the memory that he protected me.
Before I was diagnosed with ADD at 8, I would bang on every surface I could. So my parents thought I might like to play drums. They bought me a drum set and I would practice for HOURS. I would play those drums during daytime hours while Dad was at work, subjecting the rest of the neighborhood to my less-than-perfect playing ability. Then one day, my dad said he was thinking about playing guitar again. AGAIN?! I never knew he played. It was a deep dark secret I never knew about. I knew my uncle had played in bands ever since I can remember, resulting in my idolizing him for it. Never once did my father tell me he used to play.
When he bought a guitar, his brother, Roy, told him he would re-teach him to play and they could play together at his house. The only available night to do that was Tuesdays. I had school and couldn't go for most of the sessions. When school let out in the summer, I would go with him. Uncle Roy, was now teaching both of us in a way. He was teaching my dad how to play old songs they used to play when they were teenagers and he was teaching me about the hidden gems of classic rock. If I wanted to be in the ranks of The Fisher Brothers, I had to practice these songs. Did I ever! I wanted to play with them so bad that it opened my mind to new music.
Those Tuesday night sessions became a very special bond in the family. As Roy's sons got older, they joined in too. I had always strived to be in a band but could never make it happen. Both of Roy's sons grew up and played in bands of their own, occasionally playing together. For my father, the rec-room was the only place he played. He never played in front of anyone. We'd ask him from time to time to bring the guitar out and play but he never would.
As I said earlier, Uncle Roy had been playing in bands as long as I can remember, in and out of all the local bars. As a result, he has made a name for himself around the Philadelphia music scene. As part of the shows, his band would regularly invite other local musicians on stage to play with them. I have seen hundreds of musicians get up and play with them over the years. Uncle Roy would always ask my father to get up and play with him but he always turned him down. Friends that they both knew who were in Roy's first band with him would get up and play with them, not my father. My dad was happy watching from the audience.
In 2019, something changed. I can't explain it. My father decided that if he was ever going to get on stage and play, now was the time. For about six months, while he practiced and practiced, there was talk among the family that this was going to happen. Roy's band held an annual event called The Road Dogs Christmas Extravaganza. A lot of musicians that the band knew would come out and sit in with the band, family and friends gathered every year to see the show, it was always a great night.
There was something magical about that night. I guess it was the anticipation of seeing my father on stage and playing. It's what everyone was talking about. Then Roy said that over the last 30 odd years of playing, everyone and their brother came up to play with the band, except HIS brother. Then it happened. My Dad got up and played on stage. I never thought I would ever see that happen. I remember being so proud of him as tears rolled down my cheek. He was brought on to play one Christmas song. Because my daughter, Savanna, requested a song that Roy wrote, Dad stayed on stage and played that for her as well.
It was one of those very rare magical nights. Everything in the universe lined up and for one night, the world was a perfect place. At the center of it all was my Dad... playing guitar... on stage... with his brother.
Three months later, Covid-19 brought the world to a screeching halt, shutting down all public events. It was a miracle that we got this one night of perfection before the big shut down.
I still watch the performance on You Tube and get very emotional.
My father has taught me the best way to live life not by telling me, but by showing me. I can not think of anyone more perfect to exemplify as a father. He didn't have that father figure in his life to learn from. He made it a point to be everything that his father wasn't.
I can not thank him enough for everything he has done for my sister and I.
Until next time,
Thanks for reading and Enjoy Yourself!
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©2023 Grazie Santangelo. All Rights Reserved
