In Honor of a Father
It’s never easy to tell people that your natural father was awful. My brothers and I learned early on how to make jokes and give our dad nicknames to hide our embarrassment of a man who was a crude, abusive person, whether drunk or sober.
When I was young, I always wondered what it would be like to be a daddy’s girl instead of a person to torture. But even as I grew up and found I could bring out the best in my dad, I still walked the world with my scars hidden. I desperately wanted to find a husband, but what characteristics would make a good partner for me? I finally chose quietness, intelligence, and hard work. The universe listened and sent me David Trippe.
I had few opportunities to meet David’s parents, Sam and Rosemary Trippe before I became his wife, and he didn’t tell me much about them. All I knew was that his father was a successful businessman. But he was so much more than that.
It took a while to know my in-laws. David’s mother is a beautiful, vivacious southern woman.
Sam Trippe was the man I dreamed of having as a father.
He had high expectations for his children and grandchildren, so not surprisingly, they all succeeded. Sam was firm in his religious beliefs and set a standard for his children. His children were married in the Catholic church and raised their kids in the faith.
What made Sam exceptional for me was his acceptance of my differences.
I didn’t want to be a mother, fearing I would be abusive like my dad. Sam never pushed us to have children, but from the day our daughter Madeline was born, he showed her a love she cherishes.
Sam and Rosemary showed deep concern when I grew sick and never made me feel I was failing my family. When they finally learned the reasons for my illnesses, the dark truths I had never shared, they didn’t judge me.
When my mother died of Alzheimer’s, Sam sent me a letter, which I still have. He mentioned my mother’s failings but reminded me that being a parent is difficult. He wrote about what a fine woman she was and hoped I could move forward in my grief with love for my mother in my heart.