Happy Father’s Day!
14 Jun, 2016
On my wedding day my daddy took me down the aisle and gave my hand to my husband. My heart however, forever held on to him. My entire life my daddy wore many hats. He was protector, provider, supporter and advisor; the wrestler of a “4 Girl Tag Team”, Santa’s helper (who stayed up all night assembling toys), our “Family” doctor for removing splinters and trimming nails, Chex Party Mix maker, pop corn popper, turkey and stuffing roaster, a horsy back ride to bed, car mechanic and handyman who always lived up to the battle cry, “Daddy can fix it!” -broken toys, appliances, cars or hearts. We truly believed that with all of ours.
I am the youngest of 4 girls. No boys for my dad. He said he was never disappointed at the words, “It’s a girl.” I believe him. Growing up, I was at his side, working on cars, changing oil, brake pads, setting the timing. I handed him tools, wedged my hands into tight spaces he couldn’t reach under the hood of cars, sinks, etc. I carried wheel barrels full of grass clippings over the hill when he mowed the lawn. Afterwards we’d watch golf in the family room or played in the pool, He nicknamed me Sam. I was his son.
We moved to Missouri for my dad to hire employees for a new Westinghouse plant. In Jefferson City it was known as “My Dad’s Plant”. Friends would ask me, “Can you get me a job at your dad’s plant?” Everyone knew my dad. He ran for public office once, sat on nearly every board ever formed and built sets for the local Little Theater. But Westinghouse was his life. He worked there nearly 40 years.
There’s a debate whether the McGrath girls bleed Westinghouse Blue or Black and Gold. My dad loved the Pittsburgh Steelers, a passion that he passed along to us all. I grew up watching Terry Bradshaw take the Steelers to four Super Bowls with my dad. Lynn Swann, John Stallworth, Franco Harris, L.C. Greenwood, Mean Joe Greene, Rocky Blieir. His favorite-Jack Lambert. He called him “The Animal”. He loved them when they won and when they lost. He was a good sport. A fair man. Loyal.
Of all the lessons I learned from my daddy, the one that has always stayed with me is, “No one ever said life was going to be fair“. As a child, not much comfort there. As an adult, truer words have never been said. Still, my dad always worked to make our lives better than his. Once when I was struggling in the crazy world of TV News, my dad tried to get me a job at the Westinghouse site where he was working in South Carolina. He even went looking for apartments for me-showed it to me when I came to visit for Christmas. I was so touched. He later told me that he failed us girls. Completely at a loss, I asked how. He said because he never let us see him fail. I was a full grown adult and my dear, sweet dad was still taking responsibility for my frailties. What a heart full of love.
In 1990 that heart suffered an attack, lost 40% of it’s muscle and a downward spiral began. The doctors told us that he needed a new heart, but he was too old to get one. It looked bleak. They underestimated my father.
Four years later my dad walked me down that aisle. He proudly gave away his Baby. At the reception, that dear, sweet man who picked out that apartment, had picked out a song for our dance-“Daddy’s Little Girl”. He sang every word of it in my ear. Best day of my life with the best men in my life.
While Daddy never failed, hearts do. He had stent after stent procedure, more than 20 in all. He’d have more heart attacks, He’d have two strokes. He’d go to rehab and fight his way back. In the end, a few weeks shy of his 75 birthday, the fight ended 10 years ago. No body ever said life was going to be fair.
At the hospital, the priest came to give him Last Rites. He didn’t speak english well. He asked me to read the passage from the bible. In part it read:
Matthew 11:27
“All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”
When I finished reading my daddy took my hand and told the priest, “This is my son.” Struggling with his english and to understand, the priest questioned him. My daddy said again, “This is my son.” And I am his son. Will always be-in my heart.
He is forever in mine. By his example he taught me how to live with dignity, integrity and grace-and by those same qualities he taught me how to die. He never gave up, or in-or quit. He fulfilled the verses in 2 Timothy 4: 7, 8 “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge will award to me on that day-and not only to me, but to all those who have longed for his appearing.” Well done good and faithful servant!
Happy Father’s Day Daddy!
Your daughter/son Sam!
IT'S A HARnDen LIFE... 