My father taught me the importance of family. He taught me that your family comes first and that we support, encourage, and, yes, kibbitz about each other. He loved to tell stories about the family, especially, the ones that involved him. He loved to listen to the family ruddle and wasn’t afraid to mix it up. Even after divorcing my mother, he always wanted to know about what was going on in her life and truly cared about her well-being. Once you were in the family you were in the family for life. If you ever wondered whether or not you were in his good graces, you could tell by the number of articles you received in the mail. His love language was postal.

I know his three sons were a source of pride and consternation throughout his life. He was always proud of our accomplishments. Whether getting a good grade or getting into a good college to accomplishments on the sports field or on the job, he would proudly share with others what his offspring were up to. Once grandchildren entered the picture, he once again was eager to hear about their accomplishments so he could brag about the successes of his family to any and all.

While his pride showed often, his frustration and disappointment in his children and grandchildren was equally present. I am sure my siblings as well as my children can share stories about a time Godfrey raised his voice or shared his honest feelings towards you are something you had done. I still remember the shout of disbelief when I got my ear pierced, look of derision when I showed up with a tattoo, or disappointment when I decided I needed to withdraw from college to regroup. I know that he was always trying to please his father but that was never my motivating factor, which only added to his frustrations. While some might have seen it as a negative, I like to think of it as just his way of showing he cared about me.

When I became a father, I had a chance to reflect on my own father and the choices he made as my brothers and I grew up. Some of those choices I embraced, while others I knew were not going to a part of my parenting. Caring about the family, their well-being, their education, and supporting their future are all things I have strived to do. Putting work over family, being inflexible, and spending beyond my means are all things I have actively tried not to do. For good and for bad, his legacy lives on in me and down to my children.

I carry a lot of my father with me. My love of sports can be directly connected to my father. He was my first basketball coach at age 5. I can still hear him yelling courtside, “Hands Up Pelicans” every time our opponent took a free throw. He took me to sporting events here and abroad. I won’t ever forget strolling down a quiet London street, turning left into a small doorway, walking down a short hall and suddenly being in a soccer stadium for an Arsenal game. He shared his passion for his teams and his love of a little action on a game. I like to think my math skills were fined tuned at Santa Anita when he would take my quarter bet on a horse to win, place and show and then I had to make sure I got the correct winnings back. When I was an adult with my own family, sports continued to connect us through our weekly tennis matches at 7:00 in the morning. He had been to the office and back and was always raring to go. I was always a little sleepy but happy to spend time together. He shared his love of cooking with me. While his repertoire wasn’t extensive, he did have his signature dishes that were always the highlights of family dinners. I, too, have tried to create some signature dishes that I hope my children continue to ask for as the years go by. My father’s love for politics and news is also strong with in me. While I don’t feel the need to share my thoughts and discoveries, I have been known to send a link to an article or two.

One other thing that I learned from my father is that words matter. What you say and how you say it can have a great impact on one person or many. He took this philosophy and chose to say as many words as possible in the hopes of convincing any and all that his idea was the best. I, on the other hand, have utilized a communication style with more brevity. So in honor of my father, here is a short poem.

Godfrey J Harris was a unique man

Of ivory and tea he was a fan

Political Science’s where he began

But his career has had quite a large span

Writer, inventor and guy with a plan

Many companies and campaigns he ran

Even if most ended with a dustpan

Fighting for concepts that others would ban

For projects his feeling was sure we can

Godfrey J Harris was a unique man