Wednesday, the 17th, was my Dad's birthday. Isn't he handsome?
He would have been 58 this year. He worked as an auditor but he was much more...a poet, composer, writer, scholar, singer, performer, architect, builder, artist and genius...I have never met anyone quite so talented or generous as him.
It's not easy for me to talk about him, but I want my kids to know all about their Grandpa Bergam so for the past few years we've been commemorating his birthday by making his favorite cake, German Chocolate and telling a few stories about him. Some years I wimp out and use a cake mix and frosting from a can...this year I only wimped out half-way and Claire and I made the cake from a mix but the frosting from scratch (if you knew my Dad you would know that he really appreciated things like frosting from scratch). It was delicious (even though I didn't make enough to cover the whole cake--we just put a massive amount in the middle and on top).
One of my many favorite memories of my Dad is from the summer before my freshman year of college. I had just received the catalog of courses in the mail and my Dad was sooo excited. He sat on the couch with me for hours helping me choose which classes to sign up for. Thanks to him I was constantly in class my first semester with almost no credit hours to show for it. The reason? He had encouraged me to sign up almost exclusively for dance and religion classes (both worth very few credit hours)--I think I had three dance classes and three religion classes that first semester. Not once did he explain to me what general education courses are...he just really wanted me to have fun and kept giving me tips on how to quickly get my studying done so I could have more time to socialize. (I didn't find out what g.e. requirements were until I saw one of my roommates trying to figure out her schedule for the next semester and I asked her what she was doing.) I tell this story to illustrate what a sweet, and sometimes impractical (and I mean that as the highest compliment) man he was/is. Edgar A. Guest said it best...
Only A Dad
Edgar Guest
Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race,
Bringing little of gold or fame
To show how well he has played the game;
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come and to hear his voice.
Only a dad with a brood of four,
One of ten million men or more
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.
Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
Merely one of the surging crowd,
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever may come his way,
Silent whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.
Only a dad but he gives his all,
To smooth the way for his children small,
Doing with courage stern and grim
The deeds that his father did for him.
This is the line that for him I pen:
Only a dad, but the best of men.
7 comments:
That's beautiful. I don't think I ever saw your dad upset, I'm sure he was at times, but I always remember him as being very happy. Your mom also. Your home was a happy place.
I really liked reading this Haley. It's been years since we have seen each other and I am really thankful that we can keep in touch again. I have so many great memories of you and your family! Reading this and seeing the photos really took me back. I just love the photo of you and your dad. So sweet.
I miss your dad too. I remember standing in your kitchen looking at that set of 3 pictures of Ian on the wall and he was laughing with twinkling eyes and telling me what funny thing Ian was doing when the pictures were taken. He missed his baby so much!
We celebrate my dad's bday with his favorite cake too....carrot. I go for the box mix...it tastes better than mine!
Thank you for writing this. You said it much better than I could have. I miss him too. He really was the best dad.
What a sweet tribute to such a good man and father.
I love that poem! I'm stealing it!
You did a beautiful job on this, Haley
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