Still miss you, Dad

■ Editor’s note: This editorial first ran Jan. 24, 2008 in this newspaper, shortly after the death of my dad. It is being reprinted this week ahead of Father’s Day with the hope it stirs up fond memories of your father.

Ihad to say good-bye to my dad, Bob Gradoville, last week. He lost his battle with congestive heart failure, but he had lived a full 83 years.
    As we celebrated his life at both the wake service and funeral, I came to realize what an effect he had on so many people. Most of it came from 30 years as a coach of junior high baseball and basketball teams in Omaha’s Catholic Youth Organization (CYO) leagues. Consequently, many of his former players, and most of us children, called him “Coach” even to this day. Many of our friends here in Imperial called him “Coach,” too.
    I know as a former U.S. Marine, college athlete and then a coach, my dad frequently came across as a tough guy who always challenged his opponents. “Competitive” was a word used to describe him often.
    But as his oldest daughter, I saw a different side of my dad, one maybe only daughters can see and take to heart.
    He rarely talked about his “feelings,” but I learned through his example how he felt about some very important things. Things like putting family first, the importance of volunteerism and “giving back,” a love of this country and support of our veterans and, maybe at the top—having fun.
    Though he spent a lot of his personal time coaching teams at the grade school level and never with pay, I don’t ever remember feeling my dad wasn’t there for us. We made it a family event to go watch his games, whether my brothers were playing for his teams or not.
    When he was home, he was home. He found the time to help with homework, take us for ice cream and, along with my mom, celebrate our birthdays, one-on-one, at a restaurant of our choosing. I remember many of those birthdays when it was just us three out to dinner at one of Omaha’s fancier restaurants, and I had the full attention of my parents.
    His volunteer time as a coach is an example to me to remember that important aspect of citizenship. Our communities could not survive without volunteers in so many different areas.
    I’ll always remember the love he had for the veterans he served during nearly 30 years of employment with the Veterans Administration Hospital. He served as director of recreation and director of volunteers at the Omaha VA, and loved the day-to-day interaction with the vets.
    One special veteran, after being released from the hospital, a man we called “Stosh,” was a regular visitor at the Gradoville home as we were growing up. I remember how my dad and mom made him feel part of the family.
    And, having fun. That was very important to my dad. He loved a good joke, and playing catch with his grandchildren. Even with a large family of eight children, we often took vacations (it’s no coincidence that Dad planned the vacations to cities that just happened to have a professional baseball team).
    We hear a lot today about the importance of fathers in their children’s lives. I think my dad’s generation exemplified that importance—they “got it.”
    Their careers were important to them because their jobs put food on the table, not because they made this nice income they could brag about.
    They really enjoyed the time they spent with their families, giving their children moments they will forever remember and pass on to their own children.
    Thanks, Dad, for the time you spent with me and my brothers and sisters, and those “feelings” you didn’t have to express verbally. You showed by example, and we “get it.”