A special Non-Sports related One MANS Opinion this week. I apologize for those to you who are expecting some strong opinions on sports stories in this space. I promise those will return next week. 

Just some words about my Dad that passed away 15 years ago this week.

Fifteen years ago today my Father lost his battle with cancer. He was 64 years old and had battled the disease for the final nine years of his life. To this day his death is the single most painful event of my life and one that I rarely speak openly about. When I think about the 22 year old kid that I was at the time it breaks my heart all over again.

My Dad was a giant of a man. He was strong, handsome and one of the most genuine souls that has ever touched the earth. He had a way of commanding a room with little else than a quick wit and an intimidating presence. He served in the Navy during the Korean War and occasionally would drunkenly recall stories from his exploits in the service. I vividly remember the first time I heard him talk about receiving notice that his own Father had died. It was while he was in the Navy aboard a vessel in the south Pacific. I recall how strange it was to see a man of such stature cry so sincerely. A feeling I would understand myself years later.

I don’t know what hurts the most about not getting much time with my Dad. It was devastating to not have him at our wedding. It hurts that he never got to meet his Grandchildren who share his eyes and last name. It was torture not to have him to lean on when my Mom passed away in July of 2011.

I wish that I could have taken him to a Notre Dame/Navy game. I wish that he had been there to help me finish my basement. I wish that I had gotten to spend one last Christmas morning with him.

Fifteen years ago today I was forced to grow up way before I was ready to. It has taken me a long time to realize that I’ve spent nearly every minute since that day trying to fill his shoes. It’s a burden that no son should have to bare.

I will never be as charming as my Father was. I am not able to care for my Brother nor comfort my Sisters the way that he was able to do. I will never miss my Mother the way that I am sure he does every day.

But what I can do is keep his spirit alive by telling the world that he was here. That the fire that burns inside of me was set there by a great man who you all would have admired if you had only gotten to meet him.

Wherever you are Pops, know that I love you and miss you every single day.