How do you measure a man’s worth?

Is it by the number of friends he had during his life? If that’s the case, my father was extraordinarily rich. He had friendships with people around the world, and many of those people would have been at his side at the drop of a hat if need be. As the years went by and most of those friends departed this earth, his circle became smaller and smaller, but he always remembered those long-lost friends when regaling us with stories of their mischievous and definitely un-adult like behavior.

How do you measure a man’s worth?

Is it by his success in business? If so, my father was even richer. As a federal investigator for the USDA, my father was relentless in his pursuit of truth and ethics. He may have been a brash, temperamental man, but my father was overwhelmingly respected by those who worked for him. He surrounded himself with the smartest people he could find because he believed that, to do a great job, you needed great people. He wasn’t intimidated by those smarter than him (which he believed he had never met as he was, as he unabashedly proclaimed himself, brilliant. As much as I hate to admit it, his self-assessment was true). He remained life-long friends with many of those he worked with, even when he was at his worst.

How do you measure a man’s worth?

Is it by his relationship with his family? If so, my father was as flawed as they come. I myself had an extremely contentious relationship with him for most of my life. All his children experienced this to some extent, but I seemed to bear the brunt of his verbal derision, to the point where I was estranged from him for several years, only letting it go because of how badly it was hurting my mother. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know we were estranged again up until a few weeks ago when he fell and broke his arm. I guess that turned out to be a blessing and a curse. I took care of him, along with John and my mom, so I had to push my personal animosity away and have a relationship with him again-but his bone break and the subsequent medication, assisted care move, and stressors that went along with it are what shut down his kidneys and ultimately killed him. He told me he would probably die today because he was going to see the orthopedic surgeon about a possible surgical repair of his arm. I told him that he wasn’t going to have surgery Wednesday, so no, he certainly wasn’t going to die. He sure showed me, huh?

How do you measure a man’s worth?

Is it by the one’s he left behind? If so, he sure had an eclectic display of wealth. All of his kids are a bit warped in their own way, but we all carry his traits in our looks, our personalities, and our temperaments. All I can say is thank goodness we have some of my mom, who is the sweetest, calmest, most loving woman in history. My dad must have done something right to snag a lady like her. My heart breaks for her right now. My parents would be married 70 years this December and if that doesn’t tell you how amazing my mom is, nothing ever will. The only tears I have shed on this day were when my mom wanted a blanket to put on dad so he didn’t get cold. This was after he had passed. That just about killed me.

How do you measure a man’ worth?

Is it by a daughter who can still write a tribute to him when she doesn’t mourn him? Dad would laugh if he knew that I would be sitting at his computer, pontificating about his life and saying nice things about him. Well played, dad, well played.

William John Gould, Jr. August 2, 1927-September 5, 2018

Bye dad.