If you’ve been keeping up with me on Instagram, then you might know that while I’m happy to celebrate Chicagoversary, Monday also marked five years since my dad was diagnosed with and died due to the big C. I don’t like to say lost his battle with leukemia, because that implies the fight was fair to begin with – and it most definitely was not.
Since this week is about the last ten years in Chicago and the adventure that’s made me who I am in this moment, I’d be remiss not to talk about him. My dad was a complicated man with whom I had a complicated relationship, but at his core, I know that he was good. He was generous, he was funny, he was blunt, he was the greatest friend I’ve ever seen in action. I love him and think of him every damn day.
Anyway, I have enough of a tendency towards depression without adding sad stories to the world, so I’ll share a story that my dad loved to hear me tell. Full disclosure: this story is also one I shared as part of his eulogy, so I guess it is kind of depressing that way. Per his request, I opened the show.
Everyone’s dad is embarrassing, right? Normal dads make bad puns or wear lame clothes or call you childhood pet names in front of the cool kid you want so badly to be your friend. My dad absolutely did all those things…and then some.