Splish Splash

Splish, splash

I was takin' a bath

Long about a Saturday night... yeah!

Rub-a-dub

Just relaxin' in the tub

Thinkin' everything was all right.

Well... I stepped out the tub

Put my feet on the floor

I wrapped the towel around me

And I opened the door.

And... then-a... splish, splash

I jumped back in the bath

Well... how was I to know

There was a party going on.

                                          --Bobby Darin

Greetings.

I know that many of you know already, but my dad passed away this week. I decided that to help the grieving process, and to honor my dad, I would write about him for this post. I would also like to add that the love and support that has been given to my mom and me has been so encouraging to me. I am truly grateful for all who have reached out. Even if I don't return texts or phone calls or emails, I have received them and they have warmed my heart. I am okay today because I haven't been alone.

My dad was a stubborn man. We got in a lot of fights and he drove me crazy, but he was one of my favorite people in the entire world. He was the one I went to when I didn't know how to fix something, when I needed advice, or when I just wanted to be supported. That's not to say I didn't go to my mom for these things, too, but my dad and I just had a certain dynamic that worked... most of the time. It wasn't always like that. Growing up, we had a really rough spot. In my adolescent mind, it was all my dad's fault, but looking back, I couldn't see how much he did for me. He was always in my corner, even if he didn't always communicate it well.


In the last few years, I've grown a lot closer to my dad. I would call him every couple of days to just chat and sometimes those conversations lasted for over an hour. We'd talk about politics, baseball (Go Giants!!), the happenings among our friends and family, my frustrations with school/my job/life in general and whatever else seemed to come up. I'd call him on my way to work or on my lunch break and he'd always be there to talk.

My favorite memories of my dad were probably all of his stories. He had such a full life that he had some anecdotal solution to nearly every situation. One of my favorite stories was when from when he was a kid. He would help his grandfather, who owned a bakery, deliver bread to his customers (This was in the 40's!!). One of these times, just when he was starting to get hungry, his grandfather pulled his car to the side of the road and said it was time for breakfast. My dad looked around for some restaurant or place to eat and found nothing. My dad's grandfather took out two eggs and placed them under the hood of his truck and waited a few minutes. He then took out the eggs and, to my dad's surprise, they were soft boiled. They ate the eggs out of the shell with some fresh bread and my dad always said it was delicious. I think that it was ingenious of my great-grandfather to have come up with such a solution. I love that story. I'd make my dad tell it all the time. Naturally, he could tell it far better than I ever could.

All of his stories have helped me out a great deal. He used to work as an assistant manager at a department store. When I complained about some of my difficulties with my new job as a supervisor, He gave me so much advice from his experiences. My dad was also very handy. If ever something broke or my car needed a tune-up, he knew the answer as to how to take car of it. I don't know how I'm supposed to get by now without that guidance.

My dad and I shared a love of music and food. My dad raised me on jazz, doo-wop, rock n' roll from the fifties and sixties, country and musicals. He even tolerated my young school girl-love of the Backstreet Boys. Haha. My dad is the one who taught me to appreciate the sound of a vinyl record. He listened to my music, too. Whenever I found something I was a fan of he would sit through hours of the same songs over and over again. But the first song I ever learned to sing was Splish Splash by Bobby Darin. Being the first song that my dad and I shared, I found it suitable for the title for this post.


One of my dad's favorite things to do was take me to new restaurants. Every time I came home, it was, "Darci! I found the place I've got to take you to! Their [insert food here] is [insert very detailed description of the epic-ness of said food here]." Every time, without fail, he had found something new. I started doing the same. When my dad came to Virginia over the summer, we went to this breakfast diner that I had found. Nearly every day for breakfast after that, my mom, dad and I went to the diner at my dad's request. He and the owner hit it off immediately over their love of sports and rivalry of baseball teams (My dad was wearing a Yankees's hat, and the owner is an Orieles fan).  

My dad really loved my mom and me. He would say that there were very few things he'd get emotional about, except when it came to us. My mom and dad were married for 35 years. My dad never had a bad thing to say about my mom, ever. He said she was a saint for putting up with him. He said he'd never met anyone as kind as my mom, and that no one ever has a bad thing to say about her. And he's right. My mom is an amazing woman. My dad was so lucky to have her, and he knew it. He hadn't wanted to get married or have kids, but he was glad he did. He touched so many lives. He would frequently say that he didn't want a funeral because no one would come, jokingly of course, but I hope that he knew how much everyone loved him. But from the calls my mom and I have received, I know that my dad was a huge influence, not just in our lives, but to every life he touched. My dad is unforgettable, and that is one of my greatest comforts.

I already miss my dad a lot. He was a great man, husband, father and friend. He wasn't always perfect at it, but he tried to act in the best interest of his loved ones. I miss the way he could get an entire room laughing with ease, the way he made friends with just about everyone, the way he would listen and give advice. I will miss going home and watching TV with him, complaining when he'd change the channel. I miss being able to call him on my way to work. I will miss trying out new foods with him. I will miss the advice that I am only able to now fully appreciate. I loved my dad so much.

I talked to my dad on Tuesday, the day before he died. We talked about politics, my job, and other odds and ends about life. It was exactly the kind of conversation I loved having with him. The last thing he said to me was that he loved me. The last thing I said was that I loved him, too. I don't think I could be more fortunate than that. I don't think we could have parted on better terms. While I will continuously find things I wish I could say, I got more than I really could've asked for, as far as "last words" go.

I would like to thank everyone again for all the love and support my mom and I have received. We would really be lost without all of you. If you've taken the time to read this, I'm also grateful. We're not having a service, my dad never wanted one, so this is my way to put what I want to say out there.

Have a great one.

John Francis Egan
Nov. 16, 1939-Oct. 29, 2014