By Liz Dunn, Marketing & Communications Director
Nassau County Council on Aging
My Dad passed away in December after a lengthy illness. We published a fairly lengthy obituary in the News-Leader – it was challenging to condense such an extraordinary life into a couple of paragraphs. His professional career stands on its own with 35 years in the U.S. Navy, a second career with the Armed Services YMCA and a myriad of volunteer roles. Yet, it is my belief that the real measure of a man is what he instills in his family. To my Dad, family was everything. Through the years, my Mom, my sisters and our families were treated to several sayings that epitomized my Dad’s imprint on this world, and taught us again and again the importance of integrity, honor and patriotism.
Growing up in a naval officer’s family, many people assume that it’s like The Great Santini – very strict and very regimented. There was nothing further from the truth. Our home was full of love and laughter – with the occasional bump in the road caused by a house full of girls. Both Mom and Dad always had the expectation that we would rise to any challenge – and we usually did. If I had a dollar for every time my Dad said, “Just do your best,” I’d be rolling in the dough. Doing our best didn’t necessarily mean getting an A or scoring a goal. “Do your best” meant giving it your all…no matter what the circumstance. If that meant a C in Chemistry or accidentally kicking the ball into the wrong net, that was ok – we did our best.
For a Dad who put family – closely followed by food – on a pedestal, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for us. Causing a family member harm or sadness was close to a capital offense – and my sisters and I have examples we can share with you over a glass of Prosecco. At every meal, he would look around the table – realizing how lucky we were – and say, “It’s Thanksgiving every day.” That phrase was a constant reminder that our family had too many blessings to count…and we’d be by each other’s side come hell or high water.
On September 11th, the first phone call I made was to my Dad. The Pentagon had just been hit and his job with the Armed Services Y frequently took him there. Fortunately, he was in his Springfield, Virginia office, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief when he answered his phone. Of course, the news of that horrific day was still coming in so we spent a few minutes recounting what we knew at that point. Then, I asked him what we were supposed to do. Without hesitation he said, “We live our lives.” He was right. No one was going to make us fear living in the greatest country in the world. On that day, I let these words of wisdom sink in and I’ve lived by them ever since.
Now that my Dad is no longer with us on Earth, what do we do? We do our best, knowing that it’s Thanksgiving every day, as we live our lives. I’m sure he’s counting on that.