Fathers

Today is Father's Day. In my life, I've had four father figures to look up to, and I think of them all every day, I'll be writing about them today:

1. Earl Fritschie was my father. He was a wonderful father. While I still have trouble remembering most of my childhood, many of them were happy memories of my family and particularly of my father. My parents divorced when I was eleven, and the reasons for which were not made clear to me for several years afterward. And while that chain of events has had a profound effect on my view of relationships, and has led me to worry about my role in every relationship I've ever had, I have great confidence in my abilities as a father if that were to take place. Thanks solely to my father's dedication to my bother and I. It's been nearly 18 years since my father passed away, and I still miss him terribly.

2. Edward Fritschie was my grandfather. He was an incredibly loyal man, to his friends and to his family. My brother and I lost our father at the most critical ages in our lives (12 and 16 respectively), and Papaw helped fill the void and teach us the lessons we needed to become men. At the same time, we helped fill the void left after he lost his son. Papaw passed away only a few years ago, in the same hospital, and the same floor as my father had 14 years before. It was a major rite of passage for me, eerily mirroring what I had gone through as a scared 12-year-old boy while I faced it again as a man. It led me to confront those fears I had as a child. I was able to mourn without withdrawing as I did then. Today, while I miss my Papaw with every fiber of my being, I still celebrate his life.

3. Harry Schwartz was the man who gave me my first job: washing dishes at his restaurant. He taught me the value of a honest day's work, and helped shape my twisted sense of humor. He was the owner of the Hamburger Barn, where all of the tables were rectangular except for one round table in the back, reserved for Harry and the affectionately called Knights of the Round Table...an exclusive club of Harry's closest friends. My mother was first welcomed into the order, and by tagging along with her, I became the youngest knight. We would meet for dinner at the round table several nights a week, shoot the shit and have a great time. We became family. During my darkest and moodiest years as a teenager, Harry and the others took it upon themselves to "raise me right"; instilling upon me the lessons they felt I needed to be a man. It was only in chatting with the other knights at Harry's funeral that it I discovered the real reason why they did that...because they were all afraid I'd turn out "a little fruity." Nonetheless, I'm truly grateful. I lost touch with Harry after I moved away to college. When he became sick, I wanted to go see him, but my mother told me he didn't want me to see him like that, but he was tickled to hear how I had turned out...relatively fruit-free.

4. Mike Gilbert is my stepfather. He met my mother my senior year of high school. After a really bad experience my mother had with this asshole named Joe, the Knights of the Round Table vowed to put whomever attempted to woo my mother through a strenuous approval process. Mike passed with flying colors. I was the real test, however. Joe managed to hide the abuse he brought upon me and bullshit his way out of it all and back into my mother's heart on more than one occasion, so there was a serious trust barrier there. Thankfully, I liked Mike right away, and he fit into our family perfectly. I spoke with him today and wished him a happy Father's Day. I am forever in his debt, in more ways than one.