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12/06-06/07
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Goodbye Pop - Part I
This is the article that I have struggled with writing. I could not write another article until I wrote this one. I apologize.On June 3rd my father passed away. In the weeks leading up to his passing the whole concept of losing my father seemed too huge to wrap my head around. So many emotions and so many things to think about.
My father was one of many victims of cancer. In retrospect knowing that I was losing him was just as bad as losing him. I knew he was suffering both physically and mentally. What one must think about when they know for a fact that the end is near.
Alfred William Bimrose III was 73 years old. When the time came we did not have to ponder why he was taken from us so soon yet it would have been reasonable to think and wish that he should have been with us for another decade. The fact is that he did have a full life.
Here is a brief biography. He was born to parents of English and Irish heritage on the south side of Chicago in 1933. He came from a long line of furniture men and continued on in that tradition. He graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 1955. He and my mother would have six children that would provide many grandchildren. He ended up semi-retiring in North Carolina. This in a way was fitting since North Carolina is the furniture state. The distance however would prohibit the amount of time I would spend with him in the last decade of his life.
My father taught me many things. I think the first life-lesson that I can remember I learned when I was six. He taught me the proper way to shake hands. In case you were wondering you use a firm grip, look them in the eye and say "It's nice to meet you." I was to use this when attending a furniture convention in Dallas, Texas.
He also taught me the importance of faith. It was subtle however and not mandated. His methods included honking the horn in the garage at 10:15 on Sunday morning because he was ready and none of his children were. I learned the importance of faith when we would go out of town for the weekend and the first thing we would often do was find a church where we would attend Mass on Sunday. Finally I think one of the fondest memories I have occurred during the blizzard of '78. There was a break in between snows on Sunday and although cold and a little windy my father wanted to attend Mass. The only problem was that the only thing on the road that was moving was the tanks from the local armory that were being used to tend to emergencies. My father called Father Tom and asked him if he would be having service that Sunday. He explained to my father that he was required to give a Mass whether anyone was in attendance or not. So my father, mother, and myself hiked the two - three miles so that we could be the only three people in attendance. Father Tom had us sit up on the altar and we performed the service. What an amazing memory.
Over the years my faith has waned and in fact been non-existent. It returned only through the persistence of my wife and also I believe because of the foundations of faith that my parents provided me with.
I inherited from my father a love for writing, an interest in politics, a love for the news and an obsession with Notre Dame football.
My father led the life of most people that are of an entrepreneurial bent. He had success's and failures. He would definitely think outside of the box. He would have never accepted or been content with a 9 to 5 job. He never had one. He was a dreamer. But unlike some dreamer's, he was a doer. Many of his idea's he attempted to make real. Some he did. He has owned successful furniture stores and he designed and built the first indoor fast food restaurant (no that is not a tall tale). He never stopped trying and he never stopped dreaming.
This characteristic I also inherited. I have often thought of it as a curse. My life has mirrored his in some ways. I have had my share of ups and downs. More downs than ups to be honest with you at this point in my life. And even though I get discouraged and tell myself I am going to just be content with working a real job eventually I start dreaming again. I start writing and producing manuscripts. I think of other alternative ways to produce income. But as I get older I also get wiser and realize I better keep that damn job until long after I feel comfortable and can prove that I can support myself.
I am so glad that I believe that anything is possible and that I can obtain anything I want. Without that belief I could never achieve the things I dream about.
As a parent he also had success's and failures. One wonderful thing is that now he is gone they are all good memories. The failures do not matter anymore. Dwelling on them would be a waste of my time and energy. All parents make mistakes. Perhaps we should learn from them. I pray to God my children learn from my mistakes. I will accept the good parts of who I am and give credit to my parents or myself but I will never blame my bad qualities on my parents. If I am intelligent enough to make a connection between my behavior and my parents I am also capable of changing that behavior. It is always easier to blame your parents than to take responsibility for your own behavior. Bottom line - There are only GOOD memories left.
Read part II by
clicking here
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