Sunday Morning Coffee — June 15, 2025 — A Voicemail Kind of Father’s Day

By Roy Berger, Las Vegas, NV.

Good Sunday morning and Happy Father’s Day. Today is one of only two of our national holidays that tug on every American. We were all blessed with moms and dads. That’s how we got here in the first place. Some relationships were stronger than others, but with all due respect to New Year’s Day, Labor Day and even Memorial Day, emotionally we are vested in Father’s Day and Mother’s Day like none other.

However, this side of Christmas, Chanukah, Easter and Ramadan, Mother’s and Father’s Day are not a worldwide celebration. Of the 195 countries on the globe, 112 celebrate Father’s Day while surprisingly only 90 designate a Mother’s Day. There is no uniformity on the dates either. In the States we are the second Sunday in May for moms and the third in June for dads. Spain, Italy and Portugal celebrated their pops on March 19, St. Joseph’s Day, honoring Jesus’ foster father. The U.K., France, Ireland, and Greece are also today. If you find yourself in Scandinavia on the second Sunday of November be prepared as Sweden, Finland and Norway honor dads to help boost spending in what is normally a slow economic period. Poland has designated June 23 as the special day. I’m sure they have their reasons. Meanwhile our friends in Russia do not have an official Father’s Day but do make sure you have ties gift wrapped on February 23 which is the Defender of the Fatherland Day for the Russkies.

Over here, Father’s Day has been designated as the third Sunday in June since 1908 but did not become an official holiday until 1972 when President Richard Nixon signed a proclamation designating such. Mother’s Day became an official holiday way back in 1914 when President Woodrow Wilson inked parchment saying so.

Today will have meaning to everyone in so many different ways. Some will celebrate with a family event; some acknowledge with a phone call. Most of my Boomer generation is left with just memories of our parents. To others the day will not hold any special significance or meaning. That’s sad.

I remember as a kid we stayed close to home on Mother’s and Father’s Day. Dad always grilled in the late afternoon because the local Cooky’s Steak Pub was too busy, and he could never be assured of a good parking spot. That was a deal killer. Of all the life lessons my dad taught me, the value of the good parking spot is still paramount. If you didn’t care for the restaurant a great parking spot makes it better. Bad news from the doc, who cares if you can park up front? And never, ever stay to the end of a ball game, concert or show. The value of that great parking spot is being the first one out of the lot. I really hope my dad is proud of the legacy he’s left me. I try to uphold it daily.

As kids we had no idea what was involved in raising a family until we had our own. We took for granted making payments for a $17,000 mortgage for our newly purchased home on Long Island in 1955. I couldn’t spell mortgage never mind understand it. Dad had to work two jobs— by day he was at Hertz in the truck rental division. I had no idea what he did except he had his own desk and wore a brown work shirt that had a patch under the left pocket that said Hertz and another patch with ‘Herb’ over the right pocket where he had the plastic pen holder. I wanted one. At night he was a shoe salesman at a place called Shoe King Sam.

All the while we, me and my kid brothers Mike and Ken, went about our business not appreciating any of the parental sacrifices. Dad found time to throw me a baseball on weekends and teach me to ride a bicycle—what a thrill for both of us when he took his hands off the back of the seat for the very first time and off I went. He tried to stress the importance of concentrating on my elementary school homework and not the score of the Pittsburgh Pirates game. It was one of the few times he failed. We had the first color TV on our block. It was a beauty, an Admiral from the local E.J. Korvette store. Our den became a hopping place whenever Batman came on and the colors of Batman and Robin’s cape came to life. He took me to my first baseball game in 1961–Yankees and the Washington Senators. I didn’t catch a ball that day but baseball caught me for the rest of my life. We thought we had it all because we had no idea what we didn’t have.

Left: Father’s Day 1955. I was 3, Dad 26; Photo on right from nine years ago with Dad and brothers Mike and Ken (far right).

Things got even better for Dad and the family when he took off his Hertz shirt and retired his shoehorn. He went into the wholesale fish business in New York City with my grandfather. Top NYC clubs, restaurants and hotels were their clients. Business was good. Early hours, leaving home at 4:30-5 a.m., his work ethic gave us all a sense of security. We never longed for anything and truly had an idyllic childhood of the 50s and 60s. Mom was an all-star at home; Dad all-world at work and then evenings and weekends with us. Dad was cool and mild mannered for a 6’3” guy who was called ‘Big Herb.’ Back then 6’3” was today’s 6’8”. As a kid I only remember Dad being shook once and that was during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962 when the East Coast of the United States was the nuclear target of Fidel Castro, a puppet for Nikita Khrushchev. As my Mom would say, we were on “pins and needles” for two weeks until it was resolved. I was scared because they were scared.

My brothers and I never knew the family financial situation. We just took things for granted. We were comfortable in suburbia, 30 miles, or a 45 minute train ride from midtown Manhattan. Nobody on Long Island locked their doors during the day. Neighbors came in and out. ADT would have gone out of business in our neighborhood. Kids played in the street until dark and then just hung out when the lights flicked on chasing fire flies. You didn’t have to be careful of strangers because there were none. All the neighbors were Ozzie and Harriett or June and Ward Clever and welcomed us kids as such. The incessant noise of today was the wonderful sounds of silence back in the 1960s.

As we matured and graduated college, debt free because Mom and Dad took care of it, we went into the workplace and ultimately began families of our own. It was only then we realized how lucky we were because of the road map of life we were taught. Our parents became grandparents and with no experience, were the best. Dad was there when life’s choices got complicated. Advice: financial, career or personal issues he was there for me, never batting an eye, always supportive. The first time he met Andi he told me if I didn’t marry her, he would. I figured that wouldn’t go over too well with Mom, so I took the plunge. My parents were ecstatic. Me too.

Years passed and it was tough to watch Mom and Dad age. We Boomers have lived through the cycle of our parents becoming kids again while we kids have become their parents in so many ways. Fortunately for our kids —Jason, Scott and Cayla—I’m not there just yet, at least I don’t think I am, but every day I see a lot of similarities in myself now and what I saw in Dad not so long ago. I hope down the line my kids show patience with me; upon reflecting maybe I could have done a little better when dealing with my parents.

Mom died in 2014; Dad four years later in 2018, six months short of his 90th birthday. I left his South Florida hospital bedside the night before what was to be a simple morning medical procedure. Life got in the way, and I had to be back in Birmingham for a business event that evening. I got home a half hour before the call from the hospital that he had a heart attack and died on the operating table. I will never forgive myself. I do take solace that my father never got robbed of anything in life living every day until the end like he was 20 years younger.

Dad never got to see me retire and Andi and I move to Las Vegas, which was his favorite place in the world. Oh how he would have reveled in us being here wanting to know every day if we got any comps. There was something about the old Vegas that Dad loved that’s now long gone. Give him a free casino dinner and he never stopped talking about it even if the steak was undercooked and the soup not hot. A free show was better than a great parking spot. Okay, almost. A comp room and the casino owned him. Dad just didn’t make it long enough to see our retirement and his favorite place become one.

Today Americans will spend $24 billion in Father’s Day gifts- ties, socks, golf clubs, Black & Decker tool kits, gift certificates, brunch, dinners and the works. Last month, on May 11 for Mother’s Day we spent $34 billion on Mom— the major differential being flowers. Today, 61% of American dads will open a Father’s Day card. Hallmark does a little better with moms—81% get cards.

While I don’t have my parents any longer, I will always have the memories. I still have pictures and videos in all the prehistoric formats. I also have a lot of my parent’s habits. Andi reminds me constantly that is ‘something your mother would say’ or ‘something your father would have done.’ I’m not sure she realizes she is flattering me. Today I will take time to remember, to smile and to appreciate Dad whom I spoke to every day for 25 years until February 28, 2018. Fortuitously I saved about 20 voice mails from his latter days and like those who play Alice’s Restaurant on Thanksgiving morning, I will take some alone time today and listen to them all. The way Dad would recount his daily adventures, in a play by play format, from breakfast with his cronies to the daily obligatory drugstore stop to doctors appointments three or four times a week to evenings with his special lady friend to bragging about winning three bucks in the weekly Tuesday night cut-throat condo poker game right down to how he got that great parking spot at Publix. It will make me smile.

Grant me one final wish and I will ask for one more day with Mom and Dad. So much to ask them, so much to tell them that I’m thankful for. And of course that one last eternal hug.

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I’m proud that Medjet is sponsoring Sunday Morning Coffee. I spent 20 wonderful years with Medjet in Birmingham, Alabama, and can tell you unequivocally they are the standard-bearer for medical assistance membership programs. A talented staff, who cares about its members, is at the forefront of the company’s success. Whether you are traveling for business or pleasure, domestic or international, a Medjet membership should be an important part of your travel portfolio before you leave home. Check out the Medjet website at medjet.com or just tap on the Medjet logo and you’ll be able to get a look at Medjet’s services, rules and regulations, pricing, and an overview of the organization. And remember, any opinions expressed in Sunday Morning Coffee content or comments belong to the author and not the sponsor. Safe travels with your Medjet membership! — Roy Berger