RichardRoll.com

My Father Passes On

My father, Win Roll, died early in the morning thirteen days ago, at the age of 83, in his own bed, 2,000 miles away from me in Henderson, Nevada.  I had a long phone conversation with him the previous Sunday, and was on the phone with his caregiver the night before (when nothing seemed awry).  He was suffering from advanced Parkinson’s disease, a very debilitating condition, and was on kidney dialysis three times a week.  But he was a trooper about all of it.  We all flew out for the funeral, which was beautifully done and included eulogies and a reading by my wife and two young daughters. 

If this has already happened to you, and you were as close to your Dad as I was, then you know how it feels.  If it hasn’t happened yet, when it does, it’s an experience you can’t prepare for, as much as you might try.  Especially if you’re a baby boomer, and your father is one of what Tom Brokaw called The Greatest Generation (who, for all their shortcomings, were typically so steadfast and stalwart, at least compared to us), you know they’re a unique and irreplaceable breed.

For me the loss of my Dad leaves an ache and a big gap, a gap of intellectual energy, intention, determination, a certain, consistent point of view, always interested.  I loved him very much. Read more about him, what made him special, and what I learned from him, here.

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