Hello Dad:

I’ve been asked what I would want to ask or tell you if I could have 5 minutes with you. We haven’t had a conversation in 46 years and I have a helluva lot of questions for you. I can’t otherwise get the answers, because everyone else who might know them is dead. So the first thing I would ask is that we ignore the 5 minute time limit.

As I write this the world is confronted with a horrific pandemic, said to be the worst since the Spanish Flu that raged from 1918 to 1920. You were 8 years old when that flu infected an estimate of 500 million people worldwide. I have two grandchildren at that age now. Do you have a memory of the Spanish Flu? Was anyone in your family infected? Did people wear masks? Were you able to go to school during that 3 year period?

Speaking of school I know that you were the first Tyrrell in our family’s history to graduate from high school. You had 3 older siblings. Why didn’t they finish school? Did they have to go out and work?

You also had 3 younger siblings, so you were a middle child. What was that like? Did you feel that you were lost in the pack, not getting the love that the oldest and youngest received? It would be cool if you could compare notes with my middle child.

Your graduation from high school was in 1927 and you immediately started employment as a stock boy in the warehouse of a distributor of carpet and linoleum, and over the next 45 years you worked your way up through the ranks to become the company’s top salesman and then the sales manager. I remember going with you on several day trips to your customers in the Allentown-Bethlehem area and in New York state. I really enjoyed those bonding opportunities. Many of your trips, though, were 2 or 3 days excursions. Were you lonely when you went on the road?

Your years in your 20’s were during the Great Depression? How did that impact you and your family?

You were of draft age when World War II started. Did you register for the draft or receive a draft notice? Why weren’t you drafted? Was it because they were taking 20 year olds before 30 year olds?

Your brother Bill and you married two sisters. I think you and my mother were the first to wed, but who were the first to date? Did one of the brothers or one of the sisters fix up his or her sibling with the counterpart’s sibling?

I sensed that you never wanted to talk about my mother’s death. I was told that you flew into a rage when she passed, banging on windows as you walked the hospital’s corridors. Was that true? Were she and you warned that childbirth was risky because of her abscess infection? Did she know she was dying? Did she even see or hold me? I have wondered about these things all of my life. Grandma and Ann wouldn’t talk about it either. I was told by many what a beautiful and sweet and lovely person Sally was. Dad, why did you never talk to me about her? Was it because it was too painful to you, or because you wanted to protect me from feeling guilty about her death?

After her death you moved yourself, Joan and me to live in the same house with my mother’s sister and your brother and their son, and with her two brothers and her mother. Did you give any thought to an alternative? I am, of course, thankful that you made the decision you did, but I also know that there was a considerable amount of tension when years later you sought female companionship. I suspect you waited as long as you did because you felt a responsibility to Joan and me when we were still kids. I loved Grandma and Aunt Ann, but I think they were too hard on you when you started dating because they apparently felt that was disrespectful of their daughter and sister. Your dating pattern became Wednesday and Saturday nights, and sometimes I thought you felt like you needed to sneak out of the house.

For a number of years then you dated Mimi O’Neill, a devout Catholic who was a parishioner at St. Patrick’s. I believe Joan met her, but I never did until your funeral and since she was an important person in your life, I deeply regret that. By all accounts from those who knew her, especially your sister Eleanor, she was a very kind and caring person. It is my understanding that the relationship ended because after so many years of being a widower you wanted to remarry in your 50’s, perhaps so you would have someone to share and enjoy your senior years. Mimi, however, couldn’t remarry in the eyes of the church because she was divorced, her husband having run out on her many years prior. Did that make you resentful of the Catholic church? You never said or acted like it did, but still I wonder.

Open heart surgery was not a routine procedure in 1965. You were told by your doctor that you had only months to live unless you had an operation to widen your mitral valve. He recommended a heart specialty hospital in Philadelphia. Joan and I went with you and stayed until the procedure was done and you were on the road to recovery. Were you totally scared? We sure were.

You may notice that there is a certain symmetry to the presentation of the above questions, as they are centered around important events of your life. I have a number of more mundane questions and since I have your attention I’m going to list them:

Why did you enjoy cottage cheese? I think that stuff is awful.

Were you a good dancer? I only remember seeing you dance at my wedding reception, but I was too inebriated to grade your dancing skills.

Did you file your tax returns claiming head of household status when we all lived together on Jackson St.?

You claimed to look like Barry Goldwater when he ran for President in 1964, but you didn’t vote for him, did you?

What motivated you to buy a Cabana Suit for our trip in 1957? We were only going to Atlantic City, not Cuba.

Did you have hair on your chest? I never cared to look.

Have you ever had a Perfect Rob Roy?

Why did you always bring Shoo-fly Pie back from your Lancaster trips? No one really liked it.

How disappointed were you with me when my college guidance counselor met with us and reported I was flunking two courses in my first semester?

Who was the more difficult child to raise – Joan Marie or me? I think I know the answer. She turned out okay, though. Most folks liked her.

Did you ever stop bragging about your hole-in-one the first and only time you played golf?

If there is a Heaven and you get to spend eternity with your loved ones, do you hang out with your first or second wife?

I warned you upfront that I had a ton of questions. Now here’s what I’d like to tell you in the remainder of my 5 minutes:

I had a long happy marriage with a wonderful and delightful wife. I have three great sons and I wish almost more than anything that they knew you. I’ve always told them to “knock ‘em dead”, just as you encouraged me on many occasions. I have four grandchildren that we all treasure and two daughters-in-law who are caring and loving mothers to them and spouses to their fathers. I have already outlived you by 13 years and counting, and that only makes me sad that you passed at the young age of 63. You meant so much to many during your life, not just to my sister and me, but to the extended family – such as hiring Uncle Bill to work in your place of employment when he lost his job as driver of a news and magazine truck, also hiring Uncle Joe to work there when the mines closed, loaning money to Uncle Mike when he needed cash to keep his jewelry store afloat, and providing money to Uncle Jack as needed when he and his wife were raising eight kids on one salary. There probably are other examples I’m not aware of. You were a big man physically and a presence whenever you entered any room. You often said cynically of a person “ah, he just thinks he’s a big shot”. Dad, you were a Big Shot in the dearest sense of those words, and you have been my role model.

Thanks for listening.