It’s father’s day and please forgive me if someone has already started a similar thread.
I never got to know my father until I was in my late twenties, we had about six months to get to know each other before he passed away, on Father’s Day.
I’m just thankful that I had the time to get to know him, he was a pretty decent guy. People tell me I look exactly like him and as the hairline recedes I am starting to think I do too.
I had a great stepfather, he was a man who already had seven kids and decided he could help raise four more. Underneath a really hard exterior was a very kind hearted person who couldn’t raise his hand to hit a kid no matter how poorly they were behaved. I found out later that his father beat him on a regular basis until he was too big to take out to the barn.
They both taught me a great many things and today I’ll remember both my dads with fondness.
Now I’m a dad too with two awesome step-sons and two gorgeous little girls. I really don’t need any presents as they are the greatest gifts any man could possibly ask for.
Maybe I’ll get to sleep in a little before we get to work on preparing for the oldest boy’s birthday party.
My dad is alive and well and retiring tomorrow after 30 years of teaching. This is the first Father’s Day I haven’t spent hanging out with him, probably since I was born!
So from 3,000 miles away… hey Dad? Thanks. I miss you.
Our (myself, kiffa and a brother’s) father died in 1975 and I still miss him.
Things I remember about my Dad:
hanging off his broad shoulders as he’d swim past the waves at Huntington Beach. I felt so safe.
He’d listen to his transistor radio playing a baseball game and hum opera when he went to bed.
He was always up for a game of golf. He sometimes would take me to a short 9-hole course and never critisized my horrible playing style.
He had a great ability to swear. He passed that talent on to the girls in the family.
He liked to do things impromptu. Want to go to the desert for a picnic? Let’s Go! Want to learn how to fly, brachy? You bet! We rarely took the same routes on trips because he always wanted to try a different road.
He wanted us to take care of our cars. I had to rotate the tires after getting a flat and not putting the tire on straight. Mom and I drove off and Dad took the Datsun. In the rearview mirror, I could see him swearing away as he pulled over to re-adjust the tire. Uh-oh Tire rotation was in store for me when we got home.
He was selective in his abilities to do things around the house. Mom would say “Such-and-such needs fixing” and he’s suddenly forget how to use a hammer. Then he’d turn around and create a wonderful Adirondack chair out of an old birch tree.
Dad was not a terribly demonstrative guy, but he was consistant in his love and devotion to his family. That was a perfect balance to his sense of adventure and willingness to try something new. I love you Dad.
Dads
Stepdads
Dads-to-be
Uncles
Grandfathers
Godfathers
Fathers-in-law
Birthfathers
Adoptive fathers
Men who play a fatherly part in someone’s life
Women who play a fatherly part in someone’s life
…and anyone else I may have missed. You are truly, truly appreciated.
Friday afternoon I got in my car, and drove 450 km to visit my Dad.
My parents divorced when I was three years old, and Mom liked to say bad things about him. As a result I grew up with a skewed perception of him.
Since I have now moved back to Alberta, I am making an effort to get to know him. Surprising him for Father’s day was the nicest present he’s ever had, or so he says.
I think it’s important to remember Dad. My step-dad did a great job of raising me, but my Dad is a really great guy too and I am so happy to know him now.
He suffers from severe emphysema and is slowly passing away. It’s a miserable way to live so for all of you smokers out there, think before you light up the next one. It’s hell to slowly strangle.
I cannot say enough things about my dad. It would take all day long, and I still wouldn’t come close to describing what he’s like as a dad. My dad was the guy that all my friends and cousins wished was their dad. He was strict with my sister and me, but he was also the guy we went to (and still go to) when we needed any kind of support or help at all. He has spent his life working hard so that we could, in his words, “Be better than me.” He defines that as having an easier life, and not having to overwork ourselves to be happy. I’ve said it to him before, but I don’t think he fully grasps what I mean when I say that I don’t think anyone, least of all me, could ever be “better” in any way than him. When I have kids, if I can be even half the parent that he’s been, I’ll know I’ve done well.
My father-in-law raised a son that became the love of my life, and for that I will be forever grateful. He is very non-judgemental, and has let all three of his children choose their own path in life. At my wedding, after my husband and I went to my parents, we went to my in-laws. My father-in-law hugged me tight and whispered, “Welcome to the family, daughter.” And he has been a second father to me ever since. I am lucky to know him, and I am proud that I can call him dad.
One more: My brother-in-law got married on Saturday to a woman with an eight year old daughter. Long story short, the girl’s biological father is in no way involved in their lives. My brother-in-law became a husband and a father on the same day, knowing fully what he is in for. I have been proud to have him as a brother for all this time, and his love and devotion toward his new wife and daughter amaze me. When my new niece asked her mommy what would happen to her “real” daddy now that Mark will adopt her, her mom replied that, “Mark is your real daddy.” I don’t think anyone could say it better.
I have posted one or two threads in which I’ve talked about my dad. These have mostly been attempts at dealing with residual feelings left after he walked out on us when I was fourteen.
Since his second wife died his personality has slowly been reverting back to the way I remember him being as I was growing up: funny, amazingly intelligent, caring… Things I’d missed for over a decade.
I called dad last night to wish him a happy Father’s Day and we talked for a half-hour about my new computer. He awed me with tales of his working in the Navy on electronics that consisted of something known as “vacuum tubes”. It was great. Our phone calls have been getting longer in recent months and I’m really starting to value the time. Last year I worked hard to try and convince him that, even though I’m nearly thirty years old, I still need him in my life.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Please stick around for many more.
…This was my first Father’s Day without Dad. He died suddenly in January, the victim of three heart attacks in four days. At the age of 50.
[soapbox] He was a heavy smoker, and loved that good old country cooking[/soapbox].
There’s also a history of heart problems in the family. His dad (who is still alive) has heart a quad bypass, two heart attacks, three angioplasties, and probably more. I worry about the family history catching up with me, even though I don’t smoke, exercise more, and my diet’s at least marginally better. My dad always wanted to be Waylon Jennings. It’s amazing. My parents divorced when I was in the 6th grade, and I was brought up hating him. It was just in the last few years that I started seeing him as a person. I may not agree with all the decisions that he made, but I have to respect his right to make them. I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same things in those same situations. I can’t fault him. I made him laugh the last time we talked, not knowing it was going to be goodbye. All I can do is hold on to that. Now that he’s gone forever, I miss him.
