It was well before the caller ID era, but we knew who was calling. My father was losing his battle with diabetes, and his fight was waning daily.
"Mrs. Kazmer, I'm so sorry, but your husband has passed quietly in his sleep", the caller said, "Please accept my sincere condolences".
I wasn't on the phone, so I didn't hear those words, but I saw my mother's face and I knew. I will remember my mom's next words forever though. Through heart wrenching sobs, she said "he is no longer in pain".
Frank Wilbur Kazmer passed on this very day, January 30th, 1976, exactly 40 years ago, at the young age of 55. The final blow to his health was kidney failure brought on by diabetes. This terrible disease also took his sight and the use of his legs, put him in a coma for months and contributed to a collapsed lung, and yet, I never heard him utter "why me" once. He was always the catalyst to his own success, whether it was ascending through the ranks fighting in World War II and the Korean War, or through the yet to be bourgeoning world of Orange County California real estate. He could have been bitter to have his destiny decided for him, but that was not his style.I hardly knew the real Frank Kazmer. I was 13 at the time, and had watched him battle his health for 5 or 6 of those years. He came to some of my baseball games, even though he couldn't see them. He attended my brother's basketball games, just to hear the roar of the crowd. He moved back to South Dakota in 1974 because he wanted to be home, but could only smell the trees and feel winter's brisk kiss. The man had been dealt a pretty ugly hand in life, and yet he reveled in its every minute. What I wouldn't give to have had more time with him.
My wife never met him. My daughter has only heard the stories. Nieces and nephews miss the man with which they have never shared a conversation. 40 years from his last breath on earth, and he still commands an audience.
When Valerie Reid Kazmer joined Frank late in 2013, she had lived more years without him, nearly 38, than she shared with him, 33. Yet, she never remarried. Whenever we'd talk about Dad, her eyes would sparkle like a young teenager, and you could actually feel the love she still had for her Frank. While my mother battled cancer, we had to have the inevitable talk with her about her burial. Her wish - "bury me close enough to Frank, cut a hole in each of our coffins, and that way I can hold my guy's hand forever". True love lasts forever.
Dad, the harsh pain of your passing has long subsided, but don't ever think that you are forgotten. As I celebrated my recent 31st anniversary with my bride, I couldn't help but think of you and mom and the 33 years you shared together. Marcia and I are approaching that number with the commitment, loyalty, and love that you both had, and I can only hope I have become the kind of man that warrants the same kind of devotion mom had for you.
Even today, you are an inspiration to me regardless of the short time you were given. I firmly believe that I am the person I am now because of the person you and mom molded early on. I love my family, I am devoted to my wife, and I pledge to always give the love and support to Jessica that you gave us. I live today as you lived then, and thus a piece of you always live on with me.
I missed you quite a bit today, but I'll get back to it tomorrow. Life has been a bit of a challenge lately, but we're not cut from the "why me" cloth, so I'll tighten up the boots and follow your footsteps once more, because that's what we do.
I love you Dad.
