It's hard to believe it's been 30 years this Saturday since I lost my father. It was May 19th, 1988. I remember the day all too well. I was working at a restaurant at the time. I came home from work and started my workout by lifting weights. My father stood in the doorway and asked me a question and I answered him, but he did not hear me so he asked me again. I said my response for the second time in a snotty manner. As he was walking away he said he loved me and I told him I loved him too. Turned out that was the last thing I would ever say to my father.

He got in the car and headed to a school somewhere in the Scranton area where he was taking computer classes. I finished working out, took a shower, and headed off to my girlfriend's house. When I was about three minutes away from her house, I felt this really weird feeling. I felt my stomach drop like I just realized that I was forgetting something. I started asking myself if there was something I was supposed to bring to her house? I couldn't couldn't think of anything so I continued up the road to her house. We were sitting on her back porch talking when her phone rang. It was one of my sisters that told me our father was involved in a car accident. I asked how he was and she said she didn't know that they wouldn't tell her over the phone. I was only 19 at the time, but I knew that wasn't a good sign. My girlfriend and I hopped in my car and made the 30 minute trip to the hospital in Scranton. Upon our arrival, we were shown to a room where my mother was sitting with some of my other siblings. They were all crying and my mother looked at me and said, "he's gone."

I loved my father very much. He always worked hard to put the family first. He had many jobs during his life, but for the last 15 years or so, he was an accountant that worked out of an office in our home. He even tried his hand at politics by running for our city school board, and he even made a run for Senator in Pennsylvania. He lost both of those elections.  He taught me a lot of things growing up, but the most important things were; religion, to treat everyone with respect, and to help those in need. My father was always volunteering for one thing or another (and a lot of the times that meant volunteering us as well) and he was always willing to help lend a hand to anyone in need, even if he didn't know them.

I see my parents in all of my siblings. We all have characteristics of both my mother and father. In that sense, I guess the two of them will always live on within us. We will always have fond memories of both them that no amount of time can take away.