I remember and miss those conversations so much. He had a core of strength that protected my whole family; sometimes, now that he is gone, I think we underestimated him.
My parents divorced when I was in my twenties and my Dad continued in his career as an investment banker. He was always highly respected, very serious about his work and always dressed to the nines. He invented the word dapper: tailored pinstriped business suits, silk ties, perfectly tied, and Brooks Brothers socks, starched white shirts, cufflinks, braces, and especially his shoes. The earliest memories of my childhood were of Dad's handmade mirror-shined shoes clicking through the halls of our house. The sound made me feel secure and safe. My Dad might have been described as stuffy and formal, but I liked those traits. In a changing world, he was solid.
When my Dad was in his later fifties, he took early retirement. I never thought he would even think of doing that, but he said he wanted a change to start a new company of his own. I understood that. My Dad was always working, always achieving. He rarely rested or took a break. He moved to Atlanta from New York where he planned to start a financial consulting company. Eight months later I visited my Dad for the first time in his new home; he had changed his address from the condo he had first bought, and my wife and I tracked him down to his new home. We found a tiny house that looked more like a shack on the beach; THIS was dad's new house? On the porch was a man whose face lit up when he saw us. It was dad....DAD?! It couldn't be! This man had a shaggy grey beard and equally shaggy hair in a ponytail. He was tanned and relaxed and wore a tee shirt with a logo and jeans with a hole. His feet were bare and propped on the porch railing.
Where was the carefully combed hair with the razor-sharp part? The perfectly clean-shaven face? The sharp and impeccable business suit, the perfectly tied necktie and shirt crisp with starch? And where were his mirror-shined shoes that he wore every working day? And that used pick-up in front of the house? Where was his Porsche? In other words, where was the Dad I had grown up with?
