Before I get started, I want to preface this by explaining the nickname my brother’s and I gave my father. My dad, Dave, was a large man. He was 6’6″ and well built. He was also our goofy dad, always telling everyone to “settle down” whether we were rough housing or one of us spilled milk on the table.
It was his way of saying behave.
So one day, he was yelling at myself and my two brothers, Connor and Brendan. We were more than likely fighting over who got to play the xbox or who had to walk the dog. And randomly, my brother Connor just decided to quote this New Era baseball cap ad back to my father after he told us to “go to bed”…… at 4:43 on a Saturday afternoon.
Clearly, my mother was not home.
After that, my brothers and I spent the next two hours in our rooms laughing at my father’s expression when Connor replied to him “You no Big Papi.” Eventually mom would come home, tell us we didn’t have to go to bed, and the name would stick forever. But, my mom would never spell the name right (seriously, she never got it right) and would spell it out like “poppy” as if we were calling him a giant poppy seed. Either way, the spelling and name stuck and that was my dad’s nickname.
Soo, now back to what I was really looking to write about. As many of you probably know, or maybe don’t remember, yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day. The Irish holiday that celebrates St. Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland, which apparently was such a major issue that it overtook the precedence of famine. So we all now celebrate it by drinking green beer, dyeing our rivers green, and deciding whether to pinch or kiss someone based on them wearing the color green.
It’s an excuse to drink for most people. But for my family, it usually means we are doing something to celebrate our Irish heritage. My mom is 100% Irish and her entire Cusack side of the family lets everyone know it. They are extremely proud of their backgrounds, and because of that my dad, coming from a dutch background, basically adopted the holiday as his own after spending the last 20+ St. Paddy’s day with my mom on his arm.
During the past few years, it has been hard for my immediate family and myself to get together for any of the spring holidays (Easter, St. Patrick’s day, etc.) because of school and the awkward timing of my spring break. But last year, St. Pat’s happen to line up perfectly with my spring break. So I found someone to cover my shifts at work, made sure I had ride to and from Chicago, and made the trip back home in time to celebrate the holiday with my mom and dad.
At the time, it was an especially exciting day in part because we were going to be in the Chicago St. Patrick’s Day parade on my dad’s plumbing unions trolley. Also it was the first time my dad had ventured out of the house for fun since having surgery to remove an aggressive cancerous tumor locating inside his stomach. He was essentially in remission and my mom was breathing easy for the first time in about a year.
So the three of us went to the plumber’s union hall located in Chicago early that morning, hopped on the trolley, and rolled our way towards Grant Park. We were decked out in green hats, shamrock stickers, irish flag scarves, and even green beads (you would think we were color-blinded people heading to mardi gras). The best part about the trolley was that my mom and I were probably the only people not old enough to collect social security, with plenty of retired plumbers sharing stories about the Mayor’s of Chicago and the former presidents of the plumber’s local union. I was very much in and out of my element all at once, but it was a blast. Looking back, it was probably the first time the three of us had done something together without my brothers, since I was 3 or 4 years old.
That day meant a lot to the three of us. We were truly happy and for that small time, we did not have any worries. There wasn’t a test we had to get dad too, my mom did not have to get to work, and I wasn’t trying to catch a bus or ride back to Iowa. We were just able to appreciate each others company and enjoy this great holiday we all so graciously took advantage of.
Later, I would meet up with one of my friends and get lunch with him and my parents. We sat in the restaurant for an hour or so and just talked. There wasn’t one question about my dad and if he was feeling well. Or if he was comfortable in that chair. Or if he needed to lay down. He was having fun, and my mom and I could tell. He was telling jokes, making fun of my stupid habits, and genuinely enjoying his time away from home. It was probably one of the last really good memories we had together.
I also spent 20+ minutes trying to flag down a cab or call an uber for my parents to get back to their car. My dad also asked “how much do I tip the uber” and “But how do we pay them” like seven different times. I would show him my phone, explain how uber worked while he tried to read the screen using his bifocals, tilting his head while moving my phone up and down. He would give up for a few minutes and then ask to see my phone again. Technology moved too fast for him at times. (Remind me to tell you the story about explaining left and right clicking on a computer mouse)
Sadly, after this day, things would only get worse. The cancer would come back. He would be too sick and weak to fight it off. And in a few short months, we would lose my dad. But even though things may have never been quite the same, he may not look or even act quite like the same man at times, there would be moments when Big Papi would shine through. His big smile, his kind nature, or someone would really piss him off (My neighbors would know which days were good days when he had the strength to yell at my brothers and me).
So yesterday was harder than some of the others had been. Facebook of course reminded me that these photos were taken a year ago.
Which made it just that much harder, but it also reminded me how happy of a person my dad was and how lucky we all were to have him be apart of our past St. Paddy’s days. So, when I was out last night, I made sure to have an MGD and a smile on my face for him. Because that’s what he would’ve done.
Modern Barbershop 