Celebrating My Dad: The Connoisseur King

With my dad who embraced fatherhood when we were old enough to talk with him as adults.

This evening, I happened to be in my closet where I keep my dad’s briefcase, his master’s degree, and his remains. I didn’t want to keep them out in the open since it seems kind of morbid and given the amount of time I am in my closet trying to figure out what to wear, it would seem I spend a lot of time with him.

Tomorrow (June 16^th) would have been my dad’s 90^th birthday. He was born in a year that was defined by the Great Depression and the rise of fascism in Europe. Franklin D. Roosevelt was the president of the United States, and the Spanish Civil War was escalating into a major conflict.

Growing up, my dad confounded me. He was quiet and seemed exasperated by the two young girls always running around demanding everyone’s attention. As a bachelor of 31, he was a bit older when he married, and he was 35 by the time I arrived as the first born. He seemed much more content spending time in the yard and cleaning the swimming pool, that my mom insisted we needed when she was pregnant with my sister.

His job working in intelligence took him to places all over the world and he was constantly on the move. The only time I ever really felt like I conversed with him when I was young was when he talked with me about his trips. He would always open his suitcase upon return and unearth the treasures within for us. There would be chocolates, dolls and sometimes jewelry. My sister and I had arguments when he decided to get us the same item that looked a little different. “Why is her doll better than mine?”

Later as we got older, I asked for a bikini when he went to Rio and for Guerlain makeup from a trip to Paris. My favorite items were items I inherited from his travels to Japan: a pearl necklace from Okinawa and a beautiful Geisha doll, that my dad later told me looked very similar to the real geishas that he saw when he was there in 1961, which wasn’t too long after World War II.

He was born to immigrants who were working class who never returned to the countries where they were from. I heard stories about how my grandmother, a woman from Salerno, Italy, would make masterpiece meals out of nothing. He seemed to understand the value of work probably because he had so many jobs growing up. He dropped out of school and worked in a grocery store stocking shelves, driving a taxi, and in a soap factory where he made Lux.

My dad claimed New Jersey was the worst place ever since he had a number of rough years living there and he never brought us to his old neighborhood and seldom talked about it. He ultimately returned to Maryland, which was where he was born, because he recalled a green backyard when he lived in Baltimore.

One of my favorite memories of my dad was of the briefcase that is a treasured possession to this day. I remember him carrying it on the plane that took us to London where we lived when he was posted at the U.S. Embassy. I was convinced that there must be something critical to national security in that case. After all, when your parents (my mom also worked in the same place) never talked about work and everything was super-secret, this was what I came to assume.

One day, home from school, I decided to break into that case while my parents were at work. I tried everything, but it wouldn’t budge. I thought about my dad’s reaction if I busted the case and decided to stop using the screwdriver to pry it open. You can imagine my surprise when I found out it contained my birth certificate, passports, and other vital documents.

A funny thing happened as we got older. He started to relate to us more. He wanted to spend time with us, and we wanted to be with him. My dad was actually fun. We went on some wonderful family vacations all over the world and he inspired us to take some amazing trips as we grew older. He was thoughtful and generous and took care of us when things went wrong.

He struggled his whole life with high blood pressure, which was a hereditary condition for which he took medications. I did not think anything of it because he always had it and seemed fairly healthy. But back in 2017 he seemed to be struggling. He seemed to shrink and was much frailer. Sometimes he fell or in one case, fainted in a restaurant on a trip to New Mexico. He had diabetes and other circulatory issues that required interventions. He was much more concerned about the skin cancer diagnosis he had from all of the years of working out in the yard at my childhood house.

Multiple hospitalizations came and went. Finally, in 2019, he just gave out. He fell and hit his head. I went to the hospital and talked with him and he seemed okay. He seemed well enough that I decided to make a trip I had planned. Unfortunately, that was my last conversation with him. He passed a little over a week later. In typical dad fashion, it was during the finale of Game of Thrones.

As we packed up all of his belongings with my mom, we found some items we hadn’t seen before. A plaque his colleagues of nearly 40 years made for him labeled “The Connoisseur King,” a telling moniker for my dad’s penchant for the finer things. As a child of poverty having a Rolex, Burberry travel accessories, and a trench coat, clearly made him feel more established.

We found his wallet which contained photos of us and his two grandkids. But even more revealing were his many lists containing trips he wanted to take. Always a meticulous list maker, he had all kinds of things neatly written down including a forgotten list of places he wanted to return to in his beloved London.

In one of my last discussions with my dad when he was upset about his impending demise he told me he had more life to live and he wanted to stay. I told him he had done pretty much everything and had a lot to be proud of and that we would continue to do what he enjoyed.

Every now and then when I do something I think he would like, I look up at the sky and smile. Particularly when I eat ice cream. He always enjoyed taking us to Baskin and Robbins. In his honor, I’m getting a new ice cream maker and I intend to use it just as he would have wanted me to.