There are a lot of things that one can remember in their life time. Unfortunately the bad times tend to be the ones that are easiest to remember. I read My Father's Eyes just a short time and it brought tears to my eyes. It made me think of my own father.

When thinking of my dad I have a lot of mixed emotions that fill me and seem to well within. Sure there are things that are easy to remember. He had thick, curly hair that he wore long. He used to tell me that the ladies at his work were always telling him that they were jealous of his hair. His eyes were bright blue and when he was trying not to cry they whites would turn red. I have that happen to me as well though my eyes are odd and wishy washy colored sometimes blue, sometimes hazel, and often gray.

I could tell you about times when he made me cry growing up. But then most people could look back on their childhood and see scenes of their life where they had been hurt in one way or another by their parents. I never really knew my dad. He was in and out of my life. He usually made promises he didn't keep and as I got older I no longer expected him to keep them.

The morning I got the call I was getting ready to have friends over at my apartment. They had come up from the Detroit area and had already left for what would be a three hour drive. My mom was crying and she said it simply, "Your dad's dead." Shock hit me. I had always thought that I would feel relieved when I finally got that call. After all, my dad couldn't hurt me anymore. He couldn't lie to me or make promises he was never going to keep. But that wasn't how I felt. Instead I felt pain, sadness, and aching fill me up.

My dad was 44 when he died. He was one who never went to the doctor and by time he did he was full of cancer, everywhere. They couldn't do anything for him. He was walking into the cancer specialist and his leg broke from the cancer; he died ten days later. I had no idea that he was sick.

Looking back, I can still feel the ache and what's more it is easy to remember the bad times. However, if I look, there are good times too. I remember him taking me swimming in the third grade. It was the first time I had gone swimming in ages and I had a broken arm. He carefully wrapped a bread bag around my arm. It didn't do much good and by time I got the cast removed (three days later) it was full of algae. But boy did we have fun.

I remember playing on the playground, going for walks, and seeing him tear up when he told me he loved me. Sure I would have liked a lot of other things, but in reality, I can remember a lot of good times.

Most of us find it easier to remember the bad times when dealing with our relationships. However, if we work to remember the good times we will feel better, have better relationships, and we are more likely to make an effort to reach out. I didn't call my dad for four months before he died. I figured he was older, let him reach out. Maybe if I had made the effort to reach out, I would have been able to tell him how much I loved him and I would have been able to say goodbye. Let the past be the past and remember the good times.