Robert Paul Molay. My father. Progenitor. Forebear (or "Papa Bear", as he often referred to himself). "Pops" is how he mostly signed off the many emails I've been rereading lately. Just words, but we loved words and exchanged many, invariably over coffee. Wit/wisdom, humor, insight. Measured malapropisms. "Dad-isms", as my sister Carrie calls his epigrams.

Bob loved a good Spoonerism, and a "Ticket to Pittsburgh" became a long-running reference between us. He meant no offense to that city when he said "My idea of a vacation would be to take the train to a place like Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, find a quiet park bench to sit on and mind my own business for a while." 

An unadorned and unassuming place, as I understood him, where he was free of expectations or obligations. Free to express one of his fundamental tenets, which was "Live and let live".

As good as an article of faith gets, this doctrine riled me at times not only for being trite. A sidestepping of duty, I thought. But my father stepped up when I needed him most, and stepped back when I needed space. He may have made the Pittsburgh reference the first time while visiting me in some exotic place; I don't exactly remember. During this visit I pointed out some piece of ancient architecture or other, at which he barely glanced. Mildly offended by what I interpreted as indifference, I failed to realize that he was there to see me, and not some building. My father was there for me.

The Gestalt prayer has been a useful invocation in my life and in my relationship with my father. And in fact, we did find each other- two people, unbound by ceremony, as was our penchant. And it was beautiful!

Proud of having delivered me himself during my homebirth, my father would often raise my T-shirt when I was a boy, point to my navel and say to whomever was listening "You see that? I made that!" He would tell me "I used to hold you in one hand", which I took as well-intended tall talk; until I held my own children in my palm. Now I say it to them, and they give me a familiar look of leery tolerance. Someday they'll get it. 

Dearest father, you have attained Pittsburgh. I will sit there with you and share all that we have given each other. Unfettered, unconditional, undying love, 

Your son Joshua