My second son, Niklas, was born July 20, 2002. My father had been diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2000 but his prospects were good. By 2002, things weren't looking so good.

My father was an amazing man. He volunteered for the Army in the 1950s after his brother was drafted. Afterwards, he went to college. Having already done his time, he could have avoided Vietnam. Instead, he volunteered again. His 23 years of military service included over 10 years with Special Forces and two tours in Vietnam. He married my mom & had me late in life (38). When told that his promotion to Colonel was contingent upon him taking an overseas assignment, he decided that wouldn't be the best thing for the family. He turned down the promotion, retired, and stayed home with me while my mom got her career as a teacher back on track.

For the next 20 years, he worked part time and volunteered part time. He was very involved in politics, but in a decidedly non-partisan way. At one point, he was working in the office of an elected Republican official while volunteering on his off days in the office of a Democrat. He felt that both people had good characters and did good work for their constituents, even though their views on many issues were opposite. He knew just about every person on every local ballot, and could give detailed explanations as to why so-and-so was better suited to be on the Board for the Moss Landing Harbor District. He was always in charge of, or on the board for, multiple charitable organizations. Most recently he was President for Shelter Outreach Plus.

But I'd always have to ask about these things, or I'd find out about them from other people. My father hardly ever mentioned his service, military or otherwise.

My father always supported me in whatever activity I undertook. Little League, Boy Scouts, you name it. It was always my choice and my parents never forced me to do anything. But once I chose to do an activity, I got their full backing. I also put them through a lot of grief. From 15-17, it would have seemed like things could go either way. Even then, I still got 100% support. I decided to move to Michigan and they thought I was absolutely crazy. But when I insisted, they gave me some of the cash that they'd saved up for my college and co-signed on a loan for my truck.

In late 2000, I was engaged and moving back to Monterey after a short stint in New York City. I was in Reno when I got the message (unexpected, very unexpected) that I was going to be a father. When I told my dad, he just laughed & laughed. Adrian was born April 7, 2001.

It took me a while to really warm up to fatherhood. But things really changed after Niklas was born, and my father took a turn for the worse. He was stuck at home in a hospital bed. My mom told me if I came to visit that I shouldn't bring the kids. She wanted the kids to remember their grandfather like he used to be, not as he was at that moment. Against her wishes, I brought Adrian along with me. I felt like my father deserved to see his grandson one last time. I felt like Adrian deserved to know what was happening to his grandfather. And, I felt like I needed Adrian there to provide me with the strength I needed. My dad, barely conscious, lit up at the sight of Adrian. He was so happy to see his grandson and when he could talk, that's all he talked about. My mom changed her mind; my niece & nephew were allowed to come see him, too. That made him very happy.

In his last hours, my father, for all he had done, for all he had accomplished, cared only to see his grandchildren. He died on August 20, 2002, excatly one month after Niklas was born.

If it can be said that there was a fulcrum in my marriage, it was that day. That day the world lost a great man and gained a father.