Happy Birthday Dad...

On this day, 70 years ago, my dad Richard L. Aiello was born -- he was the eldest son of Ann and Louis Aiello. I unfortunately don't know a lot about my dad's childhood other than he spent a lot of time hanging out with the guys in the "neighborhood" referring to the primarily Italian neighborhood in Kenosha where he grew up. He was a lifelong Cubs fan, who when the Cubs were last in a World Series in 1945 decided to play outside with his friends rather than listen to the game on the radio with his dad -- he spoke of the regret he felt about this many times. He graduated high school in 1955, served in the US Army during the Berlin Crisis. He married my mom in 1965 and had two children -- my brother in December 1970 and me in March of 1973.

Growing up, I have very fond memories of my dad -- I was definitely a "daddy's girl." He gave me a variety of loving nicknames that he still called me the last day I saw him alive -- "petunia" "toonie" "toonie-ville-charlie." Some of my favorite memories are of Sunday mornings -- I would sit on his lap as we read the "funnies" from the Sunday paper together. And he didn't just read them -- he read them to me using a variety of different voices to make me laugh. I so looked forward to Sunday mornings... Summers were primarily spent outside, playing in our backyard. My dad was a active member of several Rose Societies in northern Illinois and south eastern Wisconsin, so we were not to play any type of ball in the yard around "Rose Show" time, for fear we would break a stem off of one of his potentially "prize winning" roses. Of course we took our chances and played ball anyway -- I can recall a few good tongue lashings for not obeying his orders. Grass cutting day too was a day we all looked forward to. Once done with the chore, my dad would load up all of the grass clippings into the wheelbarrow and give me and my brother a ride down the street to a vacant lot where he would dump them. Upon returning to the yard after our wheelbarrow ride, my dad would let us "cool off" with a Sparco Springs flavored soda from the fridge in the garage. My favorite flavor was lime -- just like my dad.

I know that my dad loved my brother and I very much -- but as all kids do, as we grew older and moved on with our lives, we didn't spend much time with him. He was diagnosed with Type-2 Diabetes in the mid-late 80's. He was insulin controlled, but didn't take much care in trying to control his diet. He unfortunately wound up on disability as a result of the complications he endured as a result of his Diabetes. He had a hard time with his feet and eventually had to give up his favorite hobby of growing roses. As the disease progressed, he became house-bound -- only leaving for doctor's appointments. He would sit in our dark living room, with the drapes closed, his TV remote, his phone, his tissue box/phone book (he wrote all of his "frequently called numbers" on the side of a tissue box) and a radio, so he could listen to radio broadcasts of Cubs games while he watched the game on TV (because he didn't like the TV broadcasters, even though the radio was always ahead of the TV image). He longed for the day when his Soap Opera Digest, NetFlix DVD's and TV Guides would come in the mail, so he could plan his week of television watching.

I can't help but think how my life right now somewhat reminds me of how my dad spent his final years. I can understand what he was feeling -- being alone with your thoughts all day; having to rely on others to get things for you or to help you do simple tasks. Although my situation is temporary, I can't help but feeling sad knowing what he went through. When we would come to visit, one thing he would consistently ask is when he would become a grandfather. Shortly after Geoff and I were married, my cousin had her first daughter -- my dad's little sister was a grandmother, and I think my dad was very jealous that his kids had not yet made him a grandfather. He often spoke about the regret he felt that he had not given his father any grandchildren before he passed away -- I really wanted to make his dream of having grandchildren come true; but unfortunately things didn't work out for us the way we had planned. Infertility made that road much longer for us than we anticipated -- had we had success when we first started trying, my dad would have met his grandchild before his death on July 3, 2006.

As I lay in bed this morning, I think of my dad and hope that he is watching over me and his two granddaughters. I like to think that he had a hand in saving them almost 10 weeks ago -- he knew how much we wanted these little girls to arrive safely into the world and he did everything he could from "up there" to make sure nothing happened to them. I know that if he were here today, he would be excited about having not just one -- but two granddaughters on the way. My mom and I laughed about it this morning, saying that he would probably be calling me every 5 minutes to check in on me and the girls -- because that was how he was. He was a very loving dad, whose bark was really worse than his bite. If you could get beyond the rough exterior, he had a heart of gold -- and I know he would've made a wonderful grandfather...