My Family, Doc

I have 2 small boys, on here, and because of the world we live in, I will be giving everybody a nickname, some that we really use, some that I will make up. In any case, my boys are Turtle, who is 4 now, and Tank, who is the ripe old age of 2. (2 1/2 daddy! he would say).
My son's nicknames are actual. Turtle got the name because when an infant, had a big head and a little everything else; such that he resembled a turtle out of his shell. Tank has his because of his personal tendencies. I swear he could walk through a brick wall and only turn around to scold me for the mess he left behind.

I really only have 2 important goals in my life. I want to be the best husband that I can be, and the best father.

This brings me to Doc. I dont know why Doc came to my mind today. Maybe it was because he must be dead about three years to the day, or maybe because I was reflecting on seeing his grandson, my brother-in-law last weekend, but in any case, i was walking across our campus at work, and found myself thinking of Doc.

Doc was the grandfather of my sisters husband. I cant begin to explain the circumstances of our relationship with enough interest to you other than to let you know that my parents and our family made an unspoken adoption of Doc as our family's grandfather when I was about 25 years old.

My own history with grandparents indicates why Doc was most likely so important to me personally. Let me preface by saying that I loved both of my natural grandfathers very much. As a child. Unfortunately, both of them passed before i really had the maturity in life to get to know them very well. My maternal grandfather was in and out of my life for as long as i knew him, and was always good to me i suppose, but cant say that i ever really knew him very well. My paternal grandfather I knew pretty well, he lived close to us, and I saw him often. I know that Grandpa loved me a lot. But again, it wasnt like I really knew him beyond childhood.

On the other hand, I met Doc when I was grown. We saw each other at all of the Wilker family gatherings, and usually a few times in between. He would always sit with me and chat, and wasnt afraid to talk to me about some of the more important things in life. We talked about raising kids, about cars, about wine and beer, golf, and really did enjoy each others company. He was, in my adult life, the grandfather that I didnt have.

Oddly, Doc was not neccesarily the kind of person I want to be if i grow up. He tended to value himself based on his net worth. He was materialistic. He was not particularly interested in having a true personal relationship with anybody. What I valued about him however, was the fact that he was indeed interested in other people. He was curious about what made people tick. He didnt judge people at all that I am aware of.

Doc was by all accounts, an addict. Not in the normal fashion, but more in a workaholic sense. Doc was an eye doctor, and had his own local practice for many many years. even after he closed it, he continued to work until he was no longer able. Doc was well into his octogenarian years when he finally quit going to work every day.

Doc reputedly got addicted to many things in his life. He had a fantastic string of high-end cars through his life, including jaguars and mercedes-benz. He was a scratch golfer in his life. He was even at the end of his life, and exceptional bridge player, a game which, although he tried to teach me during his final days in the nursing home, continues to evade my mental capacity.

Doc was also a collector. I suspect he was one of the most extreme collectors that I have ever seen. If he had one of something, he had 100. Terry Redlin prints. German beer steins. stamps. coins. You get the idea.

In any case, i suppose that having known Doc has somehow taught me a few things about my own parenthood. I dont know what sort of parent Doc was. But i do know what sort of adopted grandfather he was, and he was exceptional. Doc was very good at providing me with hope. He always seemed to know when I needed some encouragement. He always seemed to be able to find a way to feed my ego, which sounds self-absorbed, but really i dont think it is. I guess i'll finish by saying that i am thankful for the time i got to spend with him, and am sorry that those times had to end.

rest in peace, we all miss you.
Greg