Sharing Sadness and Laughter with My Favorite Fergie

How do you handle the crumple-to-the-knees pain of losing your father when you are the comedian-host of The Late, Late Show on CBS and you're supposed to be funny, light and entertaining? If you're Craig Ferguson, you go on with the show but devote the next program to your father, and you pull it off by fearlessly letting your pain show, digging deep to find the humor in the memories and, to top it off, joining the bagpipe group that's to play in tribute at the wake later that night.

I was already a fan of Craig Ferguson. Now I'm a complete devotee. (Photo of him "borrowed" from The Late Late Show Web site.)

Whether it's that I'm a night owl or an insomniac, I watch The Late, Late Show more nights during the week than not. Now I've also taken to recording it on my precious ReplayTV (better than rival TiVo, from what people tell me) so I don't keep myself from falling asleep for fear of missing anything. After all, I do have a full-time job that starts early in the morning.

The host, Craig Ferguson, is one of my favorites on tv right now. Or ever. The Scotsman consistently makes me laugh out loud. His outlook on American culture from an outsider's point of view is insightful -- we do have our quirks -- and his material is funny and his ad-libs with the guests are even better! I love his kind of isn't-this-amazing-but-it's-true approach to humor, and he delivers the punch lines cutely with that sexy accent, slightly mussed hair and an almost little-boy mischievous demeanor. He isn't mean like Letterman can be. His approach is more like Ellen DeGeneris than Jay Leno -- he is timely but mostly he talks about everyday things and finds the irony and humor in them.

But when a father you were close to dies, the laughter inside you hides and you have no desire to seek it out. My own dad, whom I worshipped and adored, died of prostate cancer 11-1/2 years ago and I remember those first few weeks and months so painfully well. My mom and I were zombies for awhile. How in the world Craig could have the presence of mind to do a show is amazing. A month after my dad died, I couldn't even keep it together when I spoke at the memorial service. (When he died on a very hot August day in Phoenix, everybody was out of town, even the minister, so we put off the service -- a very good decision.)

Craig on his Jan. 30 show talked about not knowing how to handle his show under these circumstances. No pretense, no "show biz," just the real Craig man. How refreshing!

He talked about that his father used to put his hand on the top of young Craig's head as a gesture of affection, and that he did that in the hospital again. Harkens back to childhood, something long left there. When my dad got very ill, I started calling him "Daddy" again, which I hadn't done in decades. It just felt right.

Craig said he had a hard time seeing his father well in his mind since his last memories had been of him so ill. I had the same challenge -- it took a long, long time to get the images out of my head of my dad on the day I realized the cancer had taken his sight or of him being insensitively poked while barely conscious by a young, unknowning hospital aide or of him helpless and comatose. Now, thank God, I see him more often as the young, healthy, vital, inspirational and fun dad I knew for all but the last few months.

Craig said something about that his father didn't specify what he wanted for his funeral. I asked my dad some questions about his preferences for a service for him and he said, "I won't care -- I'll be dead."

Craig's very touching tribute to Robert Ferguson (1930-2006) revived my best and also my most painful memories of Jack Schriener (1921-1994). Thank you, Craig, for sharing your father's life and passing with us. You brought me to tears and you made me laugh through the tears. Your humanity is the best thing about you -- please don't hide it. Even when you let it out, you're also still very funny!