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Sunday, June 21, 2015
Goodfellows52: A flag for my father
Goodfellows52: A flag for my father: Shifting the Sun When your father dies, say the Irish, you lose your umbrella against bad weather. May his sun be your light, say the Arm...
A flag for my father
When your father dies, say the Irish,
you lose your umbrella against bad weather.
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians
When your father dies, say the Welsh,
you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Canadians,
you run out of excuses.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the French,
you become your own father.
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.
When you father dies, say the Indians,
he comes back as the thunder.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Russians,
he takes your childhood with him.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the English,
you join his club you vowed you wouldn't.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Armenians,
your sun shifts forever.
And you walk in his light.
Diana Der-Hovanessian
AUBURN, Mass.— A five-hour round trip and a heart-warming graduation party over the weekend kept my mind off the conspicuous absence of my late father on this special day.
If you are a father who has been a guiding light to your children and made sacrifices for the sake of your union, you deserve this one-day tribute — Father’s Day — that rolls around each June. But any more than 24 hours of celebrating fatherhood and most dads lose interest and find it annoying. They want to go back to sports page or the last two innings of a Red Sox game.
A one-day fuss is all we need.
Good fathers really don’t rely on an at-a-boy or a slap on the back for a job well done. Good food, a tie, socks or a trip to a local eatery will satisfy the most dedicated fathers.
We are not looking accolades, but a good beer always brings a smile to our worried faces.
It is a tough job, but we are obligated to do it — and it is a one-shot deal in our short lives. Good fathers know this and that’s why they want to get it right. There are no do-overs.
To fathers who don’t take an interest or simply ignore their children all together, then you should be water-boarded by people who are morally bankrupt like yourself.
I have no respect for abusive or disappearing dads who don’t understand the responsibility of raising a child they created. When fathers fail because they don’t give a damn, we all pay for their stupidity and their callous nature toward their children.
Society bears the brunt when a precious child is ignored. The human cost is high for all over us thanks to distant dads.
My father was a highly intelligent man who tried to be there during those watershed moments in his children's lives. Sure, he had faults, but he was there for us. He was the guy bringing up the rear and made sure there was food on the table and clothes on our back. He worked hard as a schoolteacher and coach and kept a marriage together for nearly half a century.
That’s why I missed the gray-haired man who gave so much to his family, community and country. I wanted to see him working the room and talking to relatives about sports and this crazy, mixed-up world at Saturday’s party. He died nearly eight months ago of Alzheimer's, and there is not a moment I don’t think of him, especially on my the first Father’s Day without him.
My father had the kind of loyalty that you never see in our Congress — where 535 guys and gals run the show with the “what’s in it for me” attitude.
That is why he never considered being a politician. Telling the truth and being truthful with his students and players was his way of life.
I am lucky I have a son to remind me of my father.
Two weeks ago, I ordered a flag case for the flag that draped his coffin when he was buried with full military honors on Nov. 15, 2014. My son helped me write the engraved inscription. Albert John Blasi served with the Big Red One — a unit that served with valor during D-Day at Utah Beach on June 6, 1944 — during the occupation of Germany in the 1950s.
But my dad’s spirit and smile were present in the faces of my nieces and nephews, and of course, my sisters.
He lives on in them and I was lucky to have known him for 55 years.
All I can do to honor him is continue to be a good father and carry on his loving legacy of commitment to family. That was his inheritance to me and it is worth a small fortune to any good father.
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