I lost one of my heroes yesterday- the first one I ever met. My dad, Hank Lenz, was a great example of how heroes come in many forms.
Dad was not a “no pain, no gain” kind of guy. He liked his indulgences and until recently had the belly to prove it. I remember years ago when we were both working in the City, he stopped off for a beer and sausage before joining me for a yoga class. I think the grease and alcohol may have only improved his flexibility because much to my chagrin at the time, he got through the class just fine!
Dad did things his own way and didn’t really care what anyone else thought about it. He would never presume to tell anyone what they should do either. Even though he didn’t believe in telling me what to do, he was there for me a lot with a steadying hand when I stumbled or he found a way of letting me know he “got me” when it seemed like no one else did.
Dad was the one who took me to JC Penneys after church one Sunday when I was 12 to buy my first cosmetics. I still have that little Francis Denney eye shadow duo compact in my treasure box. Dad was the one who took me into the City to have my headshots done when I was convinced in high school I wanted to be an actress. He took me to lunch afterwards. We repeated the process including one of my heroines, Nana-his mother, when it was time to pick my photos up. The three of us went to Fraunces Tavern for a special dining experience I remember very fondly.
One of our favorite places to go was the NY Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo, NY. We started going in the early 1980s and continued off and on until 2019. Sometimes other family members would join us but Dad and I were the ones who kept going back because we loved it there. In fact, Dad noted the positive influence it had on his moody daydreamer of a daughter and signed us both up for the Society of Creative Anachronisms for a couple of years. So, we could attend other medieval and historical events together.
Dad never tried to change me or shame me for any of my missteps or wrong turns throughout my life. He knew I have always marched to the beat of my own drummer and held space for me to do that. Anytime, I have been tempted to say things should be different and find blame for why they aren’t, Dad would say, “Why are you should-ing yourself? “Should” is not helpful. You get that from your mother.”
I barely can believe he passed. It doesn’t seem real. The pain leaks in when I have to say the words as we make calls to let people know but my brain finds ways to protect me and keep it at distance. I am so grateful to have spent a lot of time with Dad over the years. Even though dementia was stealing him away from us for many days over these last few years, he would surface at times. I seized those lucid moments and told him how much I loved him and how grateful I was that he was my Dad and how being who he was, allowed me the opportunity to be who I am. There are a million other things I could write about him. He was so intelligent, well-read, funny, handsome and the list goes on. Most of all though, he was an original. A one and only! There will never be another Hank Lenz! I am so glad and thankful he was my dad.