Sixteen years ago today, my father died from cancer. Or rather what the cancer had done to his body.
It seemed as if he were only around for birthdays and Christmas. However reflecting back- he held our family together in some weird way.
Josef K. Havelka, made an impact that spans onto a new generation of the Havelka Clan. They only know him through the stories from my memories. On occasion, he is still missed by me, and by my three children (who never met him, but always ask me to share stories).
I am like my father in many ways. I know I am an asshole with a kind heart like he was. That makes me proud to be his son because he always called me an asshole as I grew up.
It’s always strange visiting my father at his final resting place. I show my respects, but I’m not sure what kind of relationship we’d have if he were still around. I often struggle with making the good memories come forward when I think of him.
One memory that comes to mind is when I was in grade one- my father told me that if someone is bugging me, to tell them to fuck off. That doesn’t go over well at a Catholic School. I got in trouble, and my father just smiled about it.
That moment empowered me as well as set my father free from ever giving parenting advice again.
Goodbye dad, again, sixteen years later.
Love, your only son,
Josef A. Havelka.
Ps. The “A.” in my name stands for Andrew, not Asshole.