Dear Harris Boys: I Know What You're Going Through

By Mike Hess Posted Feb 24th 2010 10:48AM

For Josh and Jake Harris, this February will likely be the worst month they'll ever have to endure in their lives. Their father -- 'Deadliest Catch' skipper Phil Harris, who was not only their dad, but their boss -- died following a stroke on February 9. The pain and emotional void left by the unexpected and all-too-early passing of a father is indescribable, something incomprehensible for most. Unfortunately, I know firsthand, because as they trudge through the awfulness that is their February, my November was equally devastating when my father passed away.

So, Jake and Josh, while we've never met and likely never will, I thought I'd offer what little advice there may be for dealing with something as miserable as what we're going through.

There are quite a few things about your current situation -- and your father Phil -- that remind me of myself and my dad. While nobody can be exactly in your shoes, there's certainly a handful of similarities that bridge us closer than most others. Your dad Phil, who was just 53 when he died, reminds me a bit of my father, Jeff, who passed away at 63 -- 10 years apart, but both certainly going well before "their time" ... whatever that means. You're 24 and 26, respectively, and I'm 30, so we're almost in the same boat.

So, as brothers in loss, here we are.

Our dads were hard-working everymen who knew nothing else but working and providing. They both also would look completely out of character in anything aside from a pair of crusty jeans and work boots. Hair gel and other beauty products never appeared in their toiletry arsenal, unless they were secretly planted there by a wife pleading for them to clean up for a wedding. Your dad was a salty fisherman, and mine was a bloody butcher. When it all boils down, both got paid by providing forms of protein for others to consume and enjoy. Their quiet demeanors made the times when they were truly angry all the more riveting. When my dad yelled, he meant business, and judging from the spats we saw on 'Deadliest Catch,' Phil's red-eyed rants were equally intense.

Firstly, I'll say this: When a parent passes away, there will be a handful of well-meaning people who say that they understand what you're going through, or that they get the pain you're barely able to contain. Unless they've experienced it first-hand, they don't. It's like visiting a friend in a hospital who just snapped his femur and saying you can relate because you once sprained your ankle.

Both of you were lucky enough to have spent a good chunk of time working alongside your father. For weeks at a time, you worked, lived and experienced everything with your father aboard the Cornelia Marie -- and gave the world the gift of watching your family work, fight and laugh on television. His pride in the both of you was blatant, and your adoration for him, even in times of disagreement, was equally prevalent. Few things can bond sons and fathers together like when the kids try their hand at dad's craft. You two fished with your dad. I worked occasionally with mine in his butcher shop when I was younger. I never made it my full-time job -- mostly because he refused to let me, thanks to the hellish hours, low pay and slumping economics of it all -- but I've rubbed blue-collar elbows with my dad just like you: Learning, watching, observing -- bonding. To anyone reading this article who still is lucky enough to have their father with them, I implore you to go out of your way to work with him, whether it's for a day, a week or longer. It's a life-altering experience that will be a part of you for eternity. (For more on my times working with my dad, read my funeral day memoriam here.)

It's now been a little more than three months since my father's passing, and while there's copious amounts of memories I have of him, the most vivid ones seared into my psyche are instances where work was involved. It's that passing-of-the-torch nostalgia that makes those memories essential to me, and I'm sure once you get past the initial shock and disbelief of his passing, you'll come to find the same in your own lives.

The first month of mourning is clearly the worst. Once you get over the sheer insanity of it all and get slowly back to everyday life, you'll have those moments where normally your father would in some way be involved, but he can't be anymore. For me, I'd think about cooking something and want to call him to see what kind of meat he could get me ... and seconds later, I'd remember that that nobody was going to pick up if I called. Or if I'd written an article I think he'd get a kick out of, I'd drop him a quick e-mail with a link to it. Now I've gotten used to closing that e-mail box before hitting send.

You'll likely encounter similar instances. Should you go back to your fishing careers, the empty captain's chair your father once colorfully manned will become not just a jarring memory of him, but a shrine in a sense. Everything you do, see and hear will remind you of him, and some moments will transcend all reality and logic, making you wonder if he's sending you a message from some other place.

Take, for example, my Valentine's Day. It never really meant a whole lot to me, but having two older sisters, my dad always had a sentimentality towards it -- a total juxtaposition to his brawny, Vietnam Vet, tough guy persona (badass Vietnam photo at right, and yes, that's a bazooka he's holding). He'd always come home with chocolates for the three of us, to which I'd always tease him that it was a bit weird giving his son a "Be My Valentine" gift. He'd just shrug his shoulders. I wasn't looking for a sign from my dad this Valentine's Day ... in fact, for some reason I hadn't thought about his death that much as the holiday approached. Then, I got the clearest (and literally) most painful sign he was watching me that I've had since his death: I pretty much cut off the tip of my thumb.

It was the first cooking injury I've had in 10 years (and I cook constantly, so that's saying something), and for it to happen on Valentine's weekend was blatantly the twisted and hilarious work of dad. As a butcher, slicing through your hand every now and then was an expected hazard of the job. My dad, ever-resilient, a la Capt. Phil, would generally tend to such wounds with the sterile and doctor-approved use of electrical tape and keep on plowing through his day. Sometimes, though, if the culprit of said wound was the bandsaw or another gnarly instrument, actual doctors were employed to sew him back up.

As I stood at the sink with blood running down my arm and the pain so sharp I could feel it in the back of my eye, I began laughing. "You bastard," I said aloud, smiling at my dad, thinking that if me slicing through a digit is his new version of patting me on the back or giving me a box of chocolates ... I'd be just fine with that.

So, Jake and Josh, as you traverse your way through this hell ride called life, trust me: You'll eventually find your moments where you can take a step back, look upward and laugh, no matter how much hurt is in your heart (or hand). Life will never be the same, but you'll learn to live with the pain. It will always be a part of you, like a clicking elbow following a bad fall or how people who have hurt their knees can tell when a storm is coming. It will never be easy or "normal" again, but it's part of you, now -- and part of me as well.

Tags: captain phil harris, deadliest catch, phil harris

Comments

(441)

Thursday 25 February

By teresa

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I lost my dad in 1997, I wasn't as close to my dad as I wish I was now but that was manly due to me raising my own family he worked hard all of his life to provide for fifteen children and we all got what we needed. So yes it still is hard at times but it does get easier to deal with but you will never stop missing them and wishing that you can pick up a phone to say hello everyonce in a while but I think he still watches over me him and my mom do.

By Les

Having recently lost my own father to Alzheimer's, I 'get it'. I was fortunate to work on projects for my dad's job in a plywood mill, helping him figure out improvements to things to earn points in a internal program. My best memories are of going out to fish or shoot blackpower rifles, but most recently of a 3-day whirlwind trip to see the extended family back home, thankfully coinciding with a pause in his deterioration. My heart is with you all.

By Dana

I have lost both of my parents. My father passed when I was only 9 and he was only 42. My mom passed in 1986. I am only 55. The hardest thing, I think, was realizing that I was an "orphan" and that there no longer was anyone in my life of an older age that I could turn to for advice. Someone of wisdom and knowledge, someone who had "been there". Perhaps it has made me more self sufficient, but what a cost. I'd give almost anything to sit and talk with the both of them for an hour. I love you both, Mom and Dad.

By Jack

I know what you are all going through. I lost my father2 years ago on Feb 19. He was 64 when he passed, he was not in the best of health but he always had a way of bounching back from everything. The man had astroke about 2 years before he passed and could not work anymore. He had to live very modest means after he passed my sister and me found out what he really had to live on. Let me just say that NO ONE could have lived on what he did and how he made still makes me wounder.
The month before he passed he called me and in his deep voice he said "Jackie, it's your father( like I did not know who he was) everytime I stand up I get dizzy and short of breath. Being a nurse I knew something was wrong but not to the extent that it really was. He had a hert attack around 5:00 AM it was now 2:00 PM. Like I said he was a tough old bird, the doctors said it did not look good for him. He spent the next month in the hosp. he was ona vent came off of it. We thought he turned the corner but he was never really the same.
I went everyday 2x a day for at least 2 hours, we played his Elvis music and watched TV with him. The day he passed I knew it was not well for him he was not able to eat and they were talking Nursing Home for him. He was already saying " I feel fine and I am leaving". He could not get out of bed with out 2-3 people helping him, so going home was not an option. I was leaving and my younger sister was on her way to see him.
I told him "POP I will see u later and I love you" He said "get me out of here" I then left that on my sister to deal with when she got there. I went home and got the phone call that he had crashed and was going to need the vent to help him breath, I knew this was it and told them to let him go. My Dad passed very quietly and peaceful.
I miss him everyday, but how many people can say that the last thing you ever said to someone was "I love you". I was given that and it gets me through the hard times. Just know that it gets easier everyday.

By Lou Ann

This is an incredible memoir. A true tribute to all dads. My dad passed away 4 years ago, totally unexpected. I will never forget that moment or the pain that his death taught me. But his death also helped me to realize that we take much to much forgranted in life. Since his passing, I am living differently. I have taught my daughter the same. Enjoy and treasure every moment. Don't waste time worrying about tomorrow, because, all that is certain is today.

By brenda

I guess all these letters just goes to prove to you all that You are not alone and life, although there's a hole in your heart, goes on .

By mzbsmom1@aol.com

Well Said

Saturday 27 February

By JANICE COOPER

I REALLY like the show and all the characters. Unfortunately Phil more or less did this himself. He survived an earlier attack and was shown smoking rite outside of the E.R.! It is horribly sad, especially for his boys but in all candor, this did not have to happen.

By Suzy

Hi Guys,
i lost both of my parents & they suffered until death because they smoked. My father died of pancreatic cancer(tons of coffee & a chain smoker non filters at the start then filtered L& M's)--my mother had skin,labial & lung cancer & the 3rd stroke ended her life. I loved watching the show & loved all you guys on the Cornelia Marie, believe me I could never have done that job. Isent your dad a message asking him to quit smoking--that's what killed him--I hope you sons,if you smoke, will quit(as i don't ever remember you smoking on the show)& pass it on to your other smoking crew members(if they do)smoking kills & gives you cancer from the mouth to the anus so please listen & know I love you & am not downgrading you all--my intentions are love given. I hope you continue to work on the job your father & you guys love so much, the show is awesome!
LOve
Suzy

By Heather

Dear Mr. Hess,

BEAUTIFULLY written. I am sitting here with tears running down my cheeks. Thank you for your heartfelt piece, you get it!

By Barbara

I am so sorry for your loss. Enjoyed every show. What an awsome man your dad was. He will live on in you both his sons. What a beautiful article written in honor of your dad on aol this morning by Mike Hess. He got it right.

By jpasstg

JAKE & JOAH MY HEART AND PRAYERS WITH YOU BOTH , I WENT THU THE VERY SAME THE LOSS OF MY DAD WITH A STROKE IN '86 THEN HIS PASSING IN '88 . IT WAS HARDEST THE 1ST YEAR , NO MATTER HOW MANY YEARS GO BY , NO ONE CAN TAKE AWAY THE GOOD TIMES ON OR OFF THE BOAT. PHILL IS LOOKING DOWN ON BOTH OF YOU . CAPTAIN PHILL HARRIS WILL ALWAYS BE A PART OF YOU . THERE MANY OF US ( UR FANS) FEEL KNOWING 1ST HAND WHAT BOTH ARE GOING THU. LOL GOD BLESS YOU BOTH

By rachael

ok the headline says a letter left to his sons by phil harris, so wheres the letter??

ok i get it now opps the headline was misleading a little, but i see now what it was supposed to mean

By Bluberri26

Well done Popeater. For once you showed your human and caring side.

By Sher

At first I denied that mom is with spirits a long while ago b/c we lived far away apart. Many times I felt that mom was still living in another state. I did the same with my dad...Finally I had to grasp fact that they are with spirits and I never see them again. It is very sad for a while before moving on....
I miss them and think of them often.

By Jackie

I lost my Mom in 2006, when I was 25. I know the intense pain of a sudden loss of a parent. She was my ultimate support and best friend. She said that I could do anything I wanted in this world, but any choice, should be just that. I hang onto those words and memories. I wish I had more. I know that Josh and Jake feel cheated out of decades that should have been there to spend with their father. As of today, it has been 4 years since my mother passed on, and the pain is less, but still painful. I would like to tell Jake & Josh to hang in there and know that their father is always with them.

By richard

i know what its like to loose some one i lost bouth my perents a brouthe and sister my wife lost her mouther brouther father and son all in a year and then in 2000 she had a stroke and is un able to walk or use her left side its been 10 years sence her stroke and she wishes every day she would passaway(she was only 54 when she had stroke and she say its no way to live . we well all miss your dad he seamed like a fine man

By Luke

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I can't believe someone let that article through. Was that about Phil Harris or the writer's father? Sad indeed in both cases, but it just seemed like a way to talk about himself and not the Harris story. Poorly written.

By Pam

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Phil will be missed! He was I think everyone's favorite and I hope his son's do well and make their dad proud.

Losing a parent is devestating..but to lose a son or daughter is HELL on earth..God bless my precious son..

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