She let me love him

It’s been almost 30 years since I signed a Father’s Day card. I’ve written about how my dad didn’t pay taxes or child support and how his love of beer and cigarettes led to an early death, but he was my dad. And I loved him.

Since he died when I was 13, I never really got him anything for Father’s Day. Of course, I gave him little gifts, but my mom always bought them and ushered the signing of a card. Mom made no bones about his shortcomings or her frustrations with him, but without hesitance she encouraged and fostered my relationship with my father. 

I have storybook memories of Dad. He took me fishing at Twin Lakes. We’d stop at a gas station on the way and he’d get a quart of buttermilk, orange circus peanuts and Budweiser. I got chocolate milk. We never got sunscreen. I hated the actual fishing from the worms to the wiggling fish, but I’m sure my love of chocolate milk stems from those moments. One time when I caught a fish and screeched as it squirmed, Dad laughed. He told me I was just like that in my mom’s belly and that’s why he called me “Bluegill” before I was born.

On weekends when I’d visit him, I hung out in his bar in Lava Hot Springs. I had my own pool cue, and when it wasn’t busy he’d set me up with a Shirley Temple and a bag of Cheetoes, and I’d shoot at the cue ball while singing with the juke box. I knew my escape route and hiding places if the authorities came in, and I knew all of Crystal Gayle’s “Don’t it make my Brown Eyes Blue” before I knew the Pledge of Allegiance.

Dad would come to Pocatello now and then and he’d take me to North’s Chuck Wagon Buffet at the Pine Ridge Mall. Kids’ meals cost a quarter for every year. I watched my meals go up in 25 cent increments each birthday. When he’d drop me off at home, he pretended to empty his wallet and give me “spending money.” I’d run into the house waving 11 one-dollar bills as he backed out of the driveway. “Look what Dad gave me! Isn’t he great?” Mom would smile and swear under her breath and wonder where he was when I needed winter boots. 

Dad’s lung cancer diagnosis came in the middle of my sixth grade year. I gave him two polo shirts for that Father’s Day. One had thick red and grey stripes and the other was bold teal strips separated by thin black lines.

At the end of seventh grade when he had his left lung removed, he came to stay with us until he could go back to Lava on his own.  I don’t remember if he ever went back to Lava. The infection where his cancerous lung had been was so severe that the doctors left a drain tube in his chest. He had to wear a bandage wrapped around his torso, and when he coughed, it would be soaked. Mom had to change it for him a few times a day, and to make that easier, Dad only wore button-up shirts after that. He gave me his Father’s Day polos, and when Mom sewed turtle buttons on the teal one, I wore that  baggy men’s shirt for my school picture.

Dad stayed on our couch for months, and I resented having to share the TV with him. I hadn’t thought anything could be more boring than fishing until he started to watch it on TV. I barely got a peep out of my mouth to complain when Mom yanked me into the kitchen. She made it crystal clear that he would never fish again, so I needed to just sit with him and be still while he dreamed.  So I did.

The things kids are supposed to get out of their parents marriage—a modeling of compassion and forgiveness, witnessing love and compromise—I got out of my parents’ divorce. Mom probably spent more time mad at my dad than not, and I imagine she spent Father’s Days gritting her teeth and biting her tongue, but it was worth it.

I remember my dad’s finer qualities and truly appreciate him in part because of my mom.  She let me fish without sun screen and play pool in a seedy bar. She let me squeal over spending money and sport too-big shirts. In spite of their relationship and his downfalls, on Father’s Day and every day, she let me love him.

  

Happy Father’s Day to all the different dads out there. And unless you’re watching fishing from the couch, please apply some sunscreen today.

Dad's 44th birthday holding his little "Bluegill"

Dragon Slayers and Lovers of this World

“Anyone can slay a dragon ...but try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again. That's what takes a real hero.” –Brian Andreas

My Facebook feed has been alive like a noxious weed this week. After Caitlyn Jenner’s Vanity Fair cover was announced, the tendrils of commentary have been hard to avoid. As a few friends voiced opinions I didn’t agree with, I did something I don’t normally do on social media. I challenged them just a touch. The central theme that irked me is the opinion that Caitlyn Jenner is not a hero and that she is undeserving of ESPN’s Arthur Ash Award for Courage. 

So, how does one define a hero and courage? The words are like beauty—subjective and in the eye of the beholder.  

Brian Andreas is an artist and writer from Iowa and he has a knack for capturing a thousand words in only a few. As I thought about courage and heroes this week and how I would define them, I recalled Brian’s quote above. I love the simplicity in his words. I love that he recognizes a wide-spread notion of a typical hero being a mighty dragon slayer of sorts but that heroism lies in accomplishing something difficult and for many it can be most difficult to love and keep loving.

Caitlyn Jenner’s announcement this week happened days before I traveled to Boise for a scholarship reception. This winter I helped review applications and conduct scholarship interviews for the Pride Foundation. The Pride Foundation is a regional community foundation that inspires giving to expand opportunities and advance full equality for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) people across the Northwest. 

I have been waiting for years for an opportunity like this. My entire college education including books, fees, room and board was paid for through scholarships from Idaho State University, engineering technical societies, and organizations dedicated to the advancement of women in the workplace. While I have donated to numerous scholarship funds over the years, I have never been involved in the application review and award process until now.  

This year the Pride Foundation awarded $403,850 to 124 student leaders in Alaska, Idaho, Montana, Oregon and Washington. Nine scholars are from Idaho, collectively being awarded over $34,000, and I got to meet four of them this week. Two of them, similar to Caitlyn Jenner, identify as transgender. As I met people and mingled with other foundation supporters, I was acutely aware of the courage in the room.

Melissa Vera was one of the LGBTQ winners who I helped interview over a video conference call. In person and after the stress of the review process, I was struck by her humor, candor and resilience. During her speech she said, “My mother was a meth-addict for ten years and I grew up not knowing where my next meal would come from or if we would have to move into the car yet again because rent wasn’t paid. My circumstances during that time didn’t instill much confidence in the world and myself. I had to deal with physical violence in the home, hunger, neglect and a constant feeling of stress and fear. As I grew up, I had to realize that I never lost that raw innocence and hope. “

Another winner was Dianne Piggott, a transgender woman from Boise. While she received her scholarship medal the night’s host said “As a transgender woman, she has gained valuable insight into change and valuing an authentic life. Though she didn’t grow up in Idaho, she assures us she got here as soon as she could.” 

I talked with a third scholarship winner from Boise named Kale Gardner. Kale was kicked out of the house while in high school and has found a family to live with while attending the summer session at the College of Western Idaho, majoring in sociology. When I asked if the rest of the evening would be full of late night celebrations and revelry, Kale simply said, “Well, I have homework to do.” 

All of these folks had smiles and sparkles that showcased, if not their love of this world today, their attempts at such. For me, I have heroes who try to make this a safer and more loving world, and I have heroes who help me love it when it’s not. I see heroes who do just as Brian Andres says and they wake up every day loving the world.  

As I’ve followed Bruce Jenner’s transition to Caitlyn and as I think about those I met this week, that’s what I see: people who are trying to live in a way that lets them be their authentic self and love this world. Is Caitlyn Jenner a hero to me? Well not exactly. She’s a heroine.

Pride Foundation Scholarship winners with pink ribbons: Kolby Deagle, Melissa Vera, Dianne Piggott and Kale Gardner. Pride Foundation Idaho Regional Development Organizer Steve Martin in the middle.