Today my dad turns 75, putting the time of this picture around 57 years ago. Wow! The truth is, my dad is still a handsome man and I’m proud to be his baby girl (I’m the youngest of the four women he used to tell his coworkers he lived with). I’m fortunate to still have both of my amazing parents in my life, and I never want to take their love and support for granted.
I posted a picture a few posts back of a lunchbox my dad had given to me. The way he had rigged up that lunchbox made me reminisce on how handy my dad has always been (his first project after retirement was to build a boat from scratch). When we lived in California it seemed my dad was always tearing down walls around the house and putting them up in other places. My friends were surprised each time they came over. Sometimes I was surprised too.
By the time I crashed my first car it had three toggle switches on the dashboard: one for using the “brights” mode for my headlights because I broke the lever; another for my horn, but it only made one part of the horn work and sounded like a dying duck; and the last…I do not even remember, but I know it was there.
These are endearing memories to me.
As I searched for a picture of my father and myself, I remembered another endearing moment, though maybe not so much at the time. It was almost time for the wedding march and one of my bridesmaids peeked out from our back room, came back and informed me that my father was already sitting down. He forgot he needed to walk me down the aisle! He made it back before I had a meltdown, fortunately. When I watched the video later I got to see my mother looking surprised, then irritated, and then him jumping up and going back to get me. Oops! We had rehearsed it, but I guess it was all different in the moment and with all those people there.
When I was small and my dad was always remodeling our home, I wanted to be his helper. Usually that meant I was a hammer holder, until I got bored. And I remember hanging out with my dad outside and watering the plants and his garden together in the evenings when he worked the day shift. But usually Dad worked the swing shift, which put him home sometime around midnight. When I was a teenager I often fell asleep reading, and a I remember times when I woke up to find my dad had placed my bookmark in my book and turned out my light when he came home.
Other memories are warm hugs, kisses on the cheek, and being carried to bed when I was too sleepy to make it on my own.
Dad, I love you and wish you a happy birthday!