One Dad, One Parent

A short story of true influence of a father.

Lisa Ingemi   (Master Librarian & Linguist)   September 2014  

Edited and Published by: Chris Stakutis 978 764 3488   Author/CTO

Because my Mother died when I was merely a year old (and my sister just two) my Dad became both Mother and Father. Now some might see this as tragic, I sort of see it as a gift.

My shoes were small. His were large.  Larger still was his heart and his incessant caring.

In life, you learn from every experience and situation placed to challenge you. What is most difficult to learn is behavior and caring-- this can only be witnessed and observed, not read. Blessed are we when we find those examples especially from a parent (whether mother, or father, or for the fortunate, both).

Yes, girls need a Mom for, well, girl things. Who will talk to them about boys; help them prepare for their wedding day; encourage them as they begin a family. Yes, these are all very important things for girls, but to some extent those are just details and by-in-large can be sought from others.

Let’s consider a different set of skills that my Dad taught me. I can paint the inside or the outside of a house like no other. I have been on job sites with my Dad as the youngest Foreman in both the Back bay and Beacon Hill. In fact, while on one of our many walks in Boston, my Dad would inevitable run into someone he knew. Each and every time, Dad would introduce me as “his baby”. The love and pride have stayed with me each and every day. My dad truly taught me about love and caring.  

Yes, painting too is merely a detail, but it is my detail and from my dad.  It is something I own, something I thinking about often, and something that aligns me with my dad.  My fortune is that in deed I did spend enormous time with my dad and many others do not -- work, life demands, etc.  But that time taught me a book’s worth about life and from a great perspective. It’s really not about painting.

Because of the time spent with my Dad, I like to think I have not only the insight of a female, but also can see the male perspective. Fast forward to today; My Dad comes by my work at the library on a fairly consistent basis. And inevitably sees someone he knows and yes he still introduces me as “his baby”. Never a day…that I won’t be his daughter, never.

I have children of my own now, with children of their own, but my Dad will always be my anchor, that constant...

That Parent…

© 2014 Chris Stakutis is an independent consultant, author, and software creator available to help your business.