To My Dad, On His Retirement
Many years ago, right after she got married, before my brother and I were even a thought in her mind, my mom had a psychic reading. The psychic told her all sorts of things, some of which proved to be true, some of which did not, but I remember her recounting to me that she was told that one day she would have a daughter, and that her daughter would have a special bond with her father and put him on a pedestal.
I assume this is somewhat common, the whole “Daddy’s Girl” thing and all. But man, let me tell you, the pedestal is real. To the outside world he may just seem like a regular guy, but to me, my dad is anything but. He is the kindest, friendliness, most selfless, easy-going, and all-around best human being I know—and I truly mean that.
Today, after over 50 years of working hard to support himself and his family, he retires, and I couldn't be happier for him and my mom as they embark on this next chapter in their lives—and I also couldn’t help but write a few words about him to celebrate the occasion.
My Dad John—or “Zeno,” his lifelong nickname, is a light to everyone around him. He’s so friendly that they took to calling him “The Mayor” at the local Trader Joe’s he’s worked at the last 14 years. I always proudly tell everyone that he is the quintessential TJ’s employee. The nice older guy who greets everyone with a smile, gives out stickers to little kids, and gets down on his knees to give his favorite little old ladies a hug. If anyone looks even remotely my age or is wearing a t-shirt from a place I used to work, he always says, “Hey, you must know my daughter!” and because of this, I receive regular updates on formers classmates and co-workers, old bosses, elementary school teachers, and everyone in between. He keeps me more informed than Facebook ever could.
Before he was “Trader John” though, he was known in our neighborhood as “The Chip Man.” He worked as a deliveryman for Frito Lay for over 20 years, providing product to stores all over the Cape and southeastern Massachusetts. He’d wake up before dawn to get a head start on his route, sometimes not returning home until well after dark. But when he pulled down the street in his loud diesel truck, every kid on Bridle Path knew to come running, because he’d always toss bags of chips out the window for all of us kids to catch. Let me tell you, as a little girl, there was nothing cooler than having your dad be the neighborhood junk food supplier.
My Dad is the kind of guy the phrase, “He’d give you the shirt off his back” is based on. The kind who never complains and puts other’s needs before his own—like the time he threw his back out but refused to cancel our family vacation to New Hampshire because he knew how much we had all been looking forward to it. I can only imagine how much pain he was in during that trip, but he never let on. It was always more about “us” than “him.”
He’s someone who is content with what he has rather than dwelling on what he doesn’t, and someone whose uncomplicated and optimistic worldview I’ll always deeply admire.
And of course, he’s the best dad I could ever ask for. The kind of dad who spends his days off building his 34-year-old daughter an outdoor shower because she dropped some pretty heavy hints that she’d really love to have one. The kind of dad who still thinks to buy me penny candy when he’s at the general store, and the kind who used to leave me little notes before school with his famous saying on it: “Make it a great day.”
Dad, I love you with my whole heart, and I wish you the best retirement full of relaxation, health, happiness…and maybe even a few trips over the bridge.
Na Zdrowie, may your golden years be the best yet. 💛
My favorite photo of my Dad & I from my best friend’s wedding a few years back. Did I forget to mention that he’s a dead-ringer for Sting?
