For My Father

My father passed last night after a nine month battle with pancreatic cancer. He went peacefully with loved ones nearby and his blonde lab Bailey at his side. It was serene and not the horrific type of ending which sometimes comes with pancreatic cancer at the end.

In November my father was diagnosed with the disease and given a two to six month window to live. There was nothing medically which could have been done given my father’s age of eighty-one years of age. Our family drew close together determined however long he had it would be quality time dedicated to my father.

Up to just ten days ago he still had his appetite, was still driving the short distance to his law office, and was getting around fairly well. He reached his eighty-second birthday on August 10th.Ironically from that day forward his condition began to gradually worsen.

My father leaves behind his wife of sixty-two years and my mother who was a champion in every regard these past nine months as she made sure every thing my dad needed was always there. His will to live and her courage will inspire me for the rest of my life. My younger brother, a close inner circle of family and friends, and of course Bailey, were always there as well trying to make sure every day was a good one and not one being taken for granted.

Dad leaves behind him a legacy of many friends and people who intertwined his career as a lawyer from 1963 to the present. My father was an interesting lawyer. He’d have made a compelling character in a John Grisham novel. He graduated in 1963 from Oklahoma City University Law School and graduated number one in his class. He went to work for a well established firm, but after a while decided he would be better suited to be in practice on his own. He and his best friend started their own small practice in a tiny office in front of a laundry in downtown Oklahoma City. They were still practicing together up until several weeks before my father’s passing.

It was a general practice firm where everything from criminal defense work to divorce to insurance defense to products liability law made up the core of their client list. But my father’s ultimate love was always being in the courtroom in a criminal defense case. He became known within the legal circles in Oklahoma City as one of the better criminal defense lawyers.

But as a son what made me most proud of my dad was the fact he almost never said no to a prospective client who had a cause or a good human story, but maybe not much money. I can not even begin to estimate how much pro bono work my dad did over the years. My father had a heart in a profession where many don’t and it was his heart which most defined him as a human even when it was to his own detriment at times. Even if he had not been my father he would have had my friendship, love, and respect because he never said no to an underdog. And in the end, this is what I’ll remember most about my dad…his genuine love of people and his heart.

This is not hyperbole from the lense of an oldest son, but I can never remember a boring day with my father. Those weren’t in his DNA. Every day was an adventure, every conversation an intellectual challenge, every friend a treasure. And if you didn’t know much about Vincent Bugliosi or his more famous cases you’d be in trouble in a hurry. Bugliosi was easily my father’s favorite trial lawyer of all time. Suffice it to say—I’ve read almost everything Bugliosi has written.

In 1988, my father became a grandfather for the first time. In all, he would become a grandfather of five. Christopher, Nick, Noah, Simon, and Sil would become the center of his universe and my father thrived as a loving, nurturing grandparent. Some of my favorite memories of Dad were with him with his grandchildren.

Selfishly, I realize I’m losing my dad, but I know he’s leaving behind this body on this plane of existence for something better, more glorious, and ultimately moving on to another curious segment of the journey of which all our souls travel. But again, selfishly, I’m hoping I see my dad and friend down the road so we can talk and enjoy time together.

In closing, I write this. My father wasn’t without warts, wasn’t without blemishes, wasn’t without setbacks. It wasn’t perfect. But none of us on this earth are prefect. It’s called being human.

But what most defined my father in my heart was his heart, as in he had my heart from Day 1 till his very last breath. No regrets. No what ifs. No excuses. None of that. Only love and gratitude to both of my parents.