Often when we remember those we’ve lost, whether in sharing stories, memories, or obituaries, we only tell of the good things.

For me, my Dad’s missteps, mistakes and faults are what made him who he was.

Dad’s parents divorced when he was four and his father, for whatever reason, chose not to be a part of his life. When Dad was around 15 he stole his new step dad’s car and took off to Florida with a couple of his buddies, to play basketball. Of course, when he returned, consequences were waiting. That same “delinquent” would later teach basketball to younger kids at the community center.

At seventeen his step dad died of leukemia. Dad chose to drop out of high school and get a job to support his mom. He continued to support her the rest of her life.

My Dad learned how to be a man, husband, father, and grandfather by just living it. He learned every day of his life. I’m not saying he was perfect. He made mistakes in life, we all do. We all wish we could have those do-overs. He knew that and made himself better because of it.

For my brothers and I, we learned by being with him. Everything he missed out on, we were given. He took care of his family. Dad held and loved all the babies. His kids, grandkids and great grandkids. He taught us to do things for people without expecting anything in return, because that was what he did. He made sure we knew that what others think of you, doesn’t matter. That you don’t change who you are or how you present yourself to fit in with those who are around you, because that was how he lived. He showed us that loyalty matters, your word matters, no games, just be straight forward, just be you.

Dad became a better man as he aged. When he was a young husband he was all about work and providing for his family. By the time he was a grandpa, he helped with laundry and dirty dishes. He continued to evolve, always trying to figure out what a “man” is.

I loved my Dad because of his faults, not in spite of them. They made him who he was supposed to be. And I miss him with all my heart.