William Earl Faison (January 31, 1939 – June 12, 2016).��Most people know him as the former professional football player, a member, in the 60’s, of the Fearsome Foursome with the San Diego Chargers, an occasional actor or as the teacher and assistant principal who inspired countless students.

He was dad to me and grandpa to my four children. At six feet five inches, 270 pounds, he was a man that almost always had to duck his head when entering most homes. His gait slow and deliberate.

When looking at pictures gathered over the 50 years of my life, I am reminded of the times he held each of my children when they were babies, looking more like a giant with them cradled in his huge arms. His voice deep and reassuring.

Since his death, I���ve been reading the condolences online, strangers reaching out to me to express their sorrow and yet each one I read or hear from, feels unfamiliar.

I have always felt that relationships of all types are a two-way street. Parent-child relationships are no exception. My dad knew that. He came to know many of my views and thoughts through my writing. He read everything I wrote and we discussed many of my website posts, and yet, we never seemed to find a comfortable rhythm as father and daughter.

My father was Christian, I am Jewish. We could not have been more opposite with regard to politics and religion.

I hope to glean insight according to Jewish law, during these 11 months of mourning my dad, that I currently do not have.

I will miss his quick wit, intelligence and humor. If I had known the end was near, I would have flown out to him. But he did not disclose that information and yet he knew it. I have to accept that that was his choice.

I am grateful for the valuable lessons he imparted; for example, teaching me to drive and how important saving 10 percent of every paycheck is. He attended all but one (due to illness) of my children���s bar and bat mitzvahs. He did not hesitate to comment on my cooking both positively and negatively.

My dad did, on occasion, include us in some high points of his career. My son was able to accompany him to San Diego when he was inducted into the Chargers Hall of Fame and my dad proudly introduced his grandson around to other football legends.

He regularly communicated his approval of my parenting. He sent me cards to let me know and told me in person or over the phone, ���they always seem to land on their feet and will do just fine,��� he would say as I occasionally worried about one thing or another.

Our father-daughter relationship never reached the level of understanding that I would have preferred, and I guess he would have too, but time escaped us. Though it was imperfect at times, I knew he was always there, until now.

As those of us in the Jewish community say… may his name be for a blessing.

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