Peter Albert Aigeldinger
September 3, 1934 - December 24, 1996
My dad...how I miss him. Sometimes the sense of loss overwhelms me and it's just so hard to accept it. It's a dull ache that will never go away.
I want to write down everything I can think of about him, to keep him alive, to make sure I don't forget anything. But that's just not possible.
So many times I know I let him down, but he always seemed to be proud of me no matter what, although it took a long time for me to realize it. I always felt as if he accepted me, as I was, despite my foibles and faults. For that alone I would have loved him unreservedly, but there was so much more to him to love.
His greatest asset generally was his easy-going nature and tolerance, traits I like to think I share. He instilled in me a love of music; jazz and blues, big band and swing. Of myself and my siblings, he somehow made me feel I was the special one, and I never felt I deserved it, but I loved it anyway. It was like a secret that only we shared; the fact that we just liked each other. I remember getting up early in the morning, just me and him, and it was our special time. We'd have breakfast together and talk and watch the sun rise. Sometimes we'd just each read a book and not even talk, but it didn't matter; sometimes we didn't need to talk. Just knowing he was there was always enough. I think he liked it, too - in later years he'd gently chide me for being a sleepyhead. I wonder if he missed those quiet mornings together.
He was a man of unexpected gentleness... I remember calloused hands cradling orphaned baby bunnies found after a storm, sympathetic brown eyes understanding my pain, face softening at a baby's giggle. He had a certain sense of propriety, of right. For all of his easy-going nature, sometimes he could be so stubborn...! Unable to resist an auction, he was a paradoxical packrat - he couldn't bear to throw away "good stuff", but his needs and wants were simple. Always a font of knowledge, with an amazing memory for information and a keen intellect, it was with great sadness I watched that fine mind lose focus the last couple years of his life. Decades of smoking and alcohol abuse took their toll on his body, giving him the poor physical health which eventually eroded his judgment and parts of his memory. After suffering from heart attack and stroke and surviving a by-pass operation, then diagnosed with diabetes, cancer eventually caught up with him. He passed away on Christmas Eve, 1996.
This is but a small glimpse at the man who was my father. I do not deny that he had his faults, I don't claim that he was the perfect father. Then again, neither was I the perfect daughter, and I certainly have my share of faults. The point is that he was my dad, and I love him. And I miss him so very, very much.
