What made my dad exceptional was his intellect, his heart, and his wit....his integrity, his desire to bring joy to his family and friends, and his deep-seated drive to build a successful life. He defined success in terms of being materially comfortable but more importantly, being satisfied with ones choices in life. As he navigated a successful career and built a happy family life, he achieved a deeper sense of satisfaction each successive decade: he would say " I just can't believe how good life is right now; everything is going really well". He never stopped contemplating and investing in living a rich life.
From the time he spent with friends golfing at Hilton Head, coordinating the GM Soul picnic, the annual Johnson's Christmas party, the Jazz shoot-out with friends, and dozens and dozens of family trips; it was always clear that daddy wanted to create lasting experiences that would take on a life of their own for generations to come. He was an influencer and taste-maker, an audiophile, and a family man . He was one of a kind, helping to mentor and guide countless young engineers, always willing to lend an ear or helping hand; laying a foundation for African-American engineers who would come behind him.
He had a unique perspective in how he looked at life and combined with my mom's warm, inviting demeanor, the two were charming to watch, and just fun to be around. My dad liked to drink Stroh's beer, Scotch and later wine with ice. He enjoyed chatting it up with anyone who would listen about religion, politics, music, art, poetry, computer science...you name it. If you sat at his table, you were a friend and he wanted to have a meaningful conversation. He enjoyed his stereo system. I still remember him bragging about his Bose 901s. He wasn't shy about stating his opinion on any subject, but still he was an exceptional listener with a sharp engineers mind for reasoning and problem-solving. He'd listen, but it didn't mean you were gonna change his mind though : )
As his adopted son, he never treated me differently. He was just Dad. He guided me, influenced me, helped me and even gave me space to express myself in my own unique way. He allowed me to be my mother's son, and he was there to provide a different perspective when I needed it. He supported my high school athletics but made it clear I needed to use my brain to make a living. He allowed me to dig into his albums and AV equipment, make documentaries, videos and songs. His life was a masterclass in "Black Excellence", but he wasn't perfect. He always joked about his mistakes and was humble about things he didn't know. As I grew into a man, our relationship took on new levels and he began to take my advice on occasion. We shared books, documentaries and music, and he even shared with me his fears and concerns; which I so appreciate about him. His strength was his vulnerability. He was a sensitive soul and a truly compassionate father who only wanted to see the best for his children, grandchildren.
As his mind began to slow down in recent years, I was able to experience an even deeper sense of gratitude for the simple things. And while physical ailments robbed him of some of the joy of everyday life, I was in awe of the deep love that he showed toward my mother and the way that he allowed himself to lean on her to care for him as his body wore down.
The last Christmas that I shared with my dad was special, but it was clear that things were changing. His energy was waning and his visceral excitement for the holiday's just wasn't the same as it once was. It was in those quiet moments that I felt so grateful to take a photo with this man; to hug him tight and say sincerely - "we love you".
The last time I hugged my dad was on my Mom's birthday, the day before he was unexpectedly hospitalized. It was the last day he would spend in his home of over 30 years. Even then, hours before the fateful sequence of events which would bring about his transition; he was smiling, joking and at peace. Love you dad.
Aidoo Osei (Stevie)
