April 20, 2008
In Honor of My Father
Posted by Jess in
Day to Day
On Friday, April 11th 2008, my father, Joseph Spinosa, passed away after a battle with an extremely aggressive esophageal cancer. His battle lasted just under two months.
As parents now, Matt and I often dream about the future with Zoë, and how we can't wait to find out about the first time she gets in trouble, the first time she talks back, or, more importantly, the first time she breaks something. Because as anyone knows, that's what dads are really for.
In our childhood days, my dad was the toy fixer-upper, but not your normal toy fixer-upper. Picture a toy fixer-upper in a cool, engineering, "dadgyver" sort of way. I'm still surprised he never walked around with a "no job too small" sign on him (for all we thought we saw it there anyway!).
Here's a man who would do anything for his little girl. When I was probably about a pre-teen, my tape deck ate my mix tape. It would not play at all after that, and I could see the mangled bit of tape ribbon along the edge. Now for any of you that have tweens or teenagers, I'm sure you know, this is the END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, and cause for total histrionics, ranting and raving about how those songs were IRREPLACEABLE, etc. Any normal dad would have said, "well, say goodbye" and would then have probably chucked it into the trash followed by a life's lesson about how sometimes things just happen. Well, my dad the engineer sat down at the kitchen table with his glasses, a bright light, magnifying glass, small screwdriver, crazy glue, and exact-o knife. He then proceeded to open my tape and unwind the bad part. He carefully sliced out the mangled ribbon, and then used a pinprick amount of superglue to glue the two good pieces of ribbon back together again. He screwed the tape back together, and handed it to me. Total time lost of my IRREPLACEABLE music? About five seconds worth. I never forgot that. This would be only a small sampling of the histrionic-worthy broken toy duty my dad partook in on a day-to-day basis.
My dad was the reason I've known I wanted to be a computer programmer since I was about six or seven years old. Here's a picture from one of our first computers: The Commodore PET. The really cool thing is, in the early decades long before the microchip, my father was helping create, build, shape and mold the computer industry that we know today. In fact, his true understanding went as deep as the old transistors, all the way up to the circuits, to the point where even this week, when I was at his computer with my mother, there was not a single file found that he created on that machine that was over eight characters or had spaces, it was so ingrained for him as a way of life as to why that would be important. That floored me, in that kind of special way that only true geeks and hacks will ever fully understand.
My dad is also the reason music is such an important part of me and my brother's life. In fact, I have written about it a few times before. You can read a great story about how my father was the first classical guitarist in the prestigious US Army Band, ‘Pershing's Own', playing alongside Steve Lawrence. When you're done with that, here's another great story about me surprising my dad by finding a recording he was on playing with Les Elgart on tour and dancing with him at my wedding.
So Matt, as a dad, even though you are well on your way, you've got some very big shoes to fill. As for me, I look forward to teaching Zoë the life's lessons that my dad taught me. For example, he taught me how to drive, and I will instill in Zoë the same valuable nuggets of information he passed on to me that I have also never forgotten (and have always done):
1. Always buy good quality tires. Never, EVER buy cheap tires.
2. When cracks on the side of the road appear, be sure to move the wheels to avoid them, even if it means driving a little closer to the edge of the street. Even the slightest road cracks will chew up tires quickly and will make the ride uncomfortable for your passengers.
3. For best gas mileage and brake longevity, try to keep the gas pedal as constant and steady as possible on the highway.
When Zoë was born, my dad decided she'd love a train set. And not just any old train set. Back in the day, my dad was a train hobbyist, and what better reason to pick it back up again than to enjoy it with his granddaughter? I'm so fortunate to live only about a ten minutes drive from my parents, and feel so happy that Zoë was able to be a major part of dad's life. Right now, the set currently sits on a huge table, complete with hand-weathered trains, three separate independent tracks, a masterfully rigged wiring system (engineer, remember?), and stereo train sounds. Now my dad, the technical writer, made sure to document his complex set-up by showing Matt complete instructions he had been keeping over time. He got to see Zoë enjoy them, I'm sure we'll get to see her enjoy them even more in the years to come, and hopefully add to the landscape.
Goodbye, dad. We'll miss you. We love you. I am the person I am now today because of you. You and my mother retired to one of the nicest seaside areas Rhode Island has to offer. You saw both your children grow up, settle, and you got to meet your beautiful granddaughter. Your son and daughter are carrying on your love of all things music (and the importance of a good stereo headset). Your son and daughter and also carrying on your love of all things technology (both futuristic gadgetry and old school systems). You are safe knowing your wife has an amazing support system on the street you both lived on together, and we are all overwhelmed at the outpouring of support we have all had. The world has lost an amazing man.
When will it be the most tough? Aside from now, It will be tough when I watch a great Netflix movie and can't drive it over to him because I know he'll love it. It will be tough when I get a cool gadget or technology and can't share it with him. It will be tough when Zoë has more first moments that I won't be able to share with him.
But I can always go back and read this to feel close again.
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Comments
I am sorry about your loss. I been there myself, my dad died when Erik, my son, was just 7 months old. He did get to come over to the US one last time and see his first grandchild right after Erik was born.
My dad was not an enginner like your dad, but despite only finishing 6 years of school (back in the 30's), he was also a fixer like it sounds your dad was. He fixed cars, designed and built houses, built violins and fixed all kind of broken things.
He gave me old/broken TVs, radios and mechanical calculators to take apart and play with, he gave me a big electronics kit one year for Chritsmas, etc. He was a problem solver, and I credit him with being that way myself, and getting into computers.
So sorry to hear about your loss. Sounds like your dad was one of the greats. We'll keep him and your family in our thoughts.
Lost my dad over 20 years ago and still miss him.
- Andy
Hey Jess. Your Dad sounds like a great guy. I'm sad for your loss; but I'm happy you had such a wonderful father.
-Devin.
What a beautiful tribute to your father. Heartfelt condolences on your loss Jess.
Dear Jess:
I am so sorry to hear about your dad's passing. It sounded like he was a wonderful man who left behind a great legacy. And you're right, Matt (wonderful guy that he is) has BIG shoes to fill :)
Thank you for sharing this with us. I lost my own dad 10 years ago and there's plenty of times I wish he was around to share the memorable moments in our life but, he's in a better place.
My love to you all!
Dan
Jess...wow, what a great tribute to your dad. I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, but I'm glad you're able to remember him in such a way. My condolences to you and your family.
A truly beautiful and moving tribute to your Dad Jess. I am so sad at your loss, and I wish you and your family all the best in this difficult time.
Jess,
I'm sorry to hear about your loss. And I'm stunned by your tribute. Beautifully said.
Dear Jess,
So sorry to hear about your dad. You were lucky to have such a wonderful dad and to have had a chance for him to get to see Zoe.
I lost my dad 8 years ago and he's been especially in my thoughts as my daughter's wedding approaches. I'm glad for the years we had with him and for the impact he had on my life and my children.
I'm sure the train set will be a wonderful bridge to the past for Zoe as you tell her stories of Grandpa in the future.
You're all in my prayers during this difficult time.
- chuck -
So sorry to hear of your loss. What a moving tribute, Jess.
The story of the tape repair makes me wonder whether all of our new technology is taking some of the magic out of dad-hood. I'm wondering if any of the fix-its that I've done for my daughters could possibly leave such an impression as your dad's tape-splicing job did for you. Years ago, I fixed my own cassette tapes. I was such a geek that I even had a splicing kit from Radio Shack, as a matter of fact. But when I fix something on one of my daughter's iPods, there's no physical evidence. There's no disassembly and re-assembly for wondering eyes to watch. The whole thing is done on a fleeting screen, and that's typical of so much of what we do nowadays. Yet, somehow I think that my girls will have their own memories of dad saving the day on occasion. At least I hope so.
Jess,
You rock. This was an incredible tribute to someone who was clearly a wonderful man. I am so glad for you and Matt that he was able to spend some of his life with Zoe. As for Matt filling those shoes, don't sell yourself short. Parents of our time can be role models in either gender role, and between the two of you, you are guiding lights for Zoe...and for your friends and peers as well.
Shalom / peace and our condolences.
What Ed said Jess. You and Matt are such amazing people, it's no surprise your dad was too.
Peace to you and family.
Jess,
I'm so sorry to hear that your Dad passed away. Such a devestating loss.
I remember your Dad well throughout our lives - as kids, he was always smiling and so kind to me as a guest at your house - he and your mom always made me feel like family. He was so adoring of you, his daughter :) As preteens - letting us jump around the basement very close to his very valuable equipment. And at your wedding - he was so happy and proud - and in such a lovely quiet way.
Joe was everything you could hope for in a father. I know you will miss him so much..
My love to your mother, brother & Matt as well.
xx Heather
My deepest condolences to you and your family. Thank you very much for the kind words you shared with me. The world feels like a smaller place without Dad but I keep reminding myself that no matter what they'll both find a way to watch over us forever. Unless there's computers and video games in heaven too :)
Dear Jess,
My deepest condolences to you and your family.
That was probably one of the most moving and amazing tributes I have ever read.
I am sure that Zoë will grow up to feel the love and the adoration of her grandfather with all the things he has made for her. I kind of know what Zoë would go through cos my sister never got to meet my grand-dad but as time passed she came to admire, respect and slowly emulte him in a lot of ways.
Infact your post reminds me of him. I would rate him as one of the greatest men I have ever known in my life if not the greatest.
Do take care and God bless.
rajiv
Jess, I was so sorry to hear about this. Your Dad sounds like someone we'd all like to be: the one you can count on above all others.
Peace,
Don
Jess,
I am so sorry to hear about your dad's passing. My thoughts and prayers are with your family. The few brief times I met him show clearly how much of him is in you. Zoe will have wonderful stories growing up, and Matt will learn from them too!
Blessings,
Kelly
Jessica, You don't know me, but my husband, John, and I knew your parents before you were even a twinkle in their eyes and then knew you briefly when you were a toddler.
When your mom wrote to tell us of your dad's death, she mentioned your tribute, and here I came to read it. What a heartbreakingly poignant piece! I'm sure your dad would smile over it, and likely shed tears.
These are touching memories of your dad. Thank you, and please know that many people you don't even know share your grief over the loss of a good, quiet, understated man--a rare individual who will be missed and thought of often, always with a smile. Love to you and your family as you work your way through your loss.
Melinda Hanson
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