my father

I miss my dad tonight. Of course, I miss him every day. But he has been especially on my mind lately.

Maybe it's because of the "S" name. I am so happy to be naming the baby after my father. To this day, I have never met another person as dedicated to his family as he was to our family. He worked so hard his whole life, wanting to give all of us whatever we needed. I remember when the rabbi was asking us questions about him before the funeral, and when he asked what our father's favorite hobby was, the answer was easy. His favorite hobby was us: his family. We are what made him happy and proud.

So although I am so happy to be honoring my father by naming our child after him, I hate that there is a reason to name a child after him. It makes me so sad that he will never meet Baby S. She will hear all about him, and she will learn all about the great man she was named after, but of course that won't be the same as actually knowing him.

Yesterday my mother said that my three siblings and I definitely inherited being hardworking people from my father. She even went on to say that her four children are "workaholics." I suppose in a way she is right. Our parents raised us to learn how to be self-sufficient. They always said that we either needed to go to college, or to learn a trade. My oldest sister became an accountant at 21 years old, and later became a CPA. She was extremely hardworking right from the beginning, and became a partner in her firm at a very young age. She has two beautiful daughters, and she plays an extremely active role in their lives, such as being a troop leader for her younger daughter's Girl Scout troop. My next oldest sister became a teacher. We all know how hard teachers work. We also all know that teachers (like writers) do the job because they love it, not for the money. My sister has earned several different certifications so that she can teach children with many different needs. She has always been supportive of her daughter's dreams and goals. Career-wise, my brother followed in my father's footsteps, even though it wasn't necessarily what my father wanted for him, because he wanted him to have an easier life than he had. My brother works very hard, six to seven long days each week, while supporting his four children, one of whom is autistic. As for me, I will do whatever I need to do in order to meet my deadlines. It is far from unheard of for me to stay up all night a few times a week if that's what needs to be done. This year for the first time, I stopped working for a newspaper full-time and branched out on my own to work for myself. I have three clients (a lifestyle magazine, a newspaper and a trade publication) and I work hard coordinating the three jobs, but I thrive under the pressure.

My mother says we all definitely get this from our father. That makes me smile. I hope he knows what a mark he left on all of us. I also hope wherever he is, that he is watching us and is proud of us all. And I desperately hope that he will get to see Baby S, and that he will be proud of me for making a family, even if it isn't in the most traditional way. I often ask my mother what my father would have thought of us adopting a baby, and she always tells me he would loved her in the same way he loved his biological grandchildren. Considering how much that was, that is more than good enough for me.