If you have been a young child of divorce, you know the agonizing feeling of loss buried deeply under glimmering hope, wishful thinking and a blatant aversion to reality. Pretending, escaping and willing it away with every breath, longing for the return to normalcy are efforts in futility.
If you have been a young child of divorce lucky enough to be blessed with a second father, then you know the peace and joy that can emerge out such a devastating scenario. I am grateful that one of the most unfortunate situations in my young life grew to be one of the most fortunate.
As I say in nearly every post, I am where I am because of where I have been. As such and without doubt, my two fathers have been the most influential men in my life, albeit through vastly different examples.
Frank was a non-conformist Hungarian refugee who colored outside of the lines in every aspect of his life. He was sophisticated, worldly, cultured, artistic, philosophical, conversational, passionate, carefree, and wounded. He loved the Mamas and the Papas and Picasso, the Pacific Ocean and sailing.
He lived a minimalist laissez-faire life and believed rules were meant to be eradicated.
Frank was into vinyl records.
Bill was an Irish Catholic career military pilot who, before becoming a corporate pilot, retired after 28 years of service as a Lieutenant Colonel. He was disciplined, focused, strict, organized, loyal, humble, stoic, and soft spoken. He loved flying planes, fishing, skiing and tinkering in the garage or yard.
He believed rules were meant to be followed.
Bill was into encyclopedias.
By virtue of their differences, I am the best part of both. Frank, through his influence and struggles taught me resilience, perseverance and compassion. How to be aware and mindful, how to overcome adversity, what inclusion looks like and why it matters. We share the same passions for music, art, the ocean and sailing.
Bill, through his regimented influence and example taught me discipline, order, organization, humility, and loyalty. His favorite saying… ‘it’s water under the bridge,’ through which I learned not to hold a grudge, or wallow in things I couldn’t control. After hearing it so much, it got me thinking why I couldn’t push it back up stream to make it come down differently, something I reference to this day. I ski because of him. I teach skiing to others because of him.
I have five step brothers and sisters, nieces, nephews, and a vast extended family I would not know and love otherwise.
These traits were realized through time and maturity. In fact, many took years, even decades, for me to recognize and embrace. Like a diamond in the rough, time fortified the inherent truths of my traits and the source of such wisdom. With hindsight and reflection, I see that now. The tale of two fathers, their influence and infinite presence always traveling on my left shoulder!
RIP Frank E. Kalapos – February 12, 1935 – November 10, 1988
RIP Lt. Colonel, William J. McElroy III – September 5, 1927 – June 7, 2022
Forever in my heart and on my left shoulder!
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Beautiful story and so well written!
Thank you, Vilma!