memories of dad

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Father’s Day is coming up and I was wondering what are people’s favorite memories of their dad’s are.

Mine would be in the summer of '84. My dad works for TWA, so we could fly for free until I turned 21. That summer we flew all over the country just to watch baseball games. On his days off, we’d fly out, catch a game, fly back. We saw the Yankees, Mets, Red Sox, Tigers, Padres, Dodgers, Giants, Atros, Royals, and of course the Cardinals (we live in St Louis, naturally we’re gonna catch a home game that summer.) At every stadium he bought me a patch that my mom sewed onto a jacket for me. I still have that jacket, which my mom bought really big on purpose, so it still fits me today. My dad still has the scorecards and programs from the games.

2

My favorite memory dates back to my first year of “real” college (y’know, not going to the local college, but actually leaving home to go someplace else for school.) I had moved to Minneapolis, and I was about 18. My father and I had always carved Jack-o-lanterns together for Halloween, and things just didn’t seem the same now that I was far away and no family/friends around. Unbeknownst to my mother, who usually coordinates such things, he bought a pumpkin, carved it, put it in a box, and sent it to me UPS. I still get teary eyed thinking about it. My father is not a demonstrative man, and it meant a lot to me that he did such a thing.

3

My dad would grab my waist from behind, holding my back to his chest, and spin around.

I was quite secure, but my arms and legs would fly outward.

I did the same thing with my kids, and they love to demonstate this simple thing to friends, using dolls, like it was some masterful trick.

We call it F.B.T. for Flying Baby Time.

4

There are a lot of good memories. The one of which I’m the most proud had nothing to do with me.

I had already left home. My brother was out of high school and working for Dad, and my sister was still in school.

For the first time in years, Mom and Dad took a real vacation. They flew to Minnesota to visit family, and entrusted the family business to the office help.

They were gone just a few days when the entire workforce walked off and went to work for the competition. The office manager and my brother were the only two to show up that day. They called Dad to tell him of the events.

Well the folks cut their vacation short and flew home as quickly as practical. Dad went into the office and took stock of the situation.

The ex-foreman came into the office and told Dad that he’d screwed up and that he and the rest of the guys would like their jobs back.

Dad told him to go to hell. “You guys closed the doors, I’m keeping them closed.”

And that’s how Dad retired.

SouthernStyle

5

I remember holding onto Dad’s shoulder as he’d take me out through the high waves at Huntington Beach. I felt fearless as long as he was there.

I remember being terribly embarassed everytime he’d tell parents to cover up their young children at the beach. I didn’t know until later that, as an infant, I had a severe sunburn despite a blanket over the bassinet. So, even though people would look as if to say “Mind your own business, buddy,” Dad would persist in the hopes that another young child would not get seriously burned. I think of that when I need to screw up my courage to say something someone might not want to hear.

I remember how he could build or fix things. He made a patio chair out of an old birch tree. He replaced a missing muffler from my brothers 56 Buick with pipe from an old clothesline. I remember Mom getting disgusted with him when he claimed he didn’t know how to fix the toaster. This from a guy who used to work on precision grinders.

I remember wanting a Creepy Crawler set and when we went to the toystore, how devastated I was to learn the price was $12. That was way too much money. Dad looked at me, and after promising to give him my allowance (something like 25 cents a week) I could see that “what-the-hell” expression coming on and he bought the set. He knew all about allowances and kids’ promises.

He also knew that kids need to make their own choices in life. When I wanted to go to Berkeley as my brother and sister had, Mom said, “No, you’ll become a…radical!” Dad said it was my choice, end of discussion. (I ended up going to Cal State Fullerton.)

I remember giving him a book on flight (he was a pilot in WW2). Sitting in his birch chair, he looked over to me and said, “So, kiddo, you want to learn how to fly?” I started my flying lessons that weekend.

Sorry I rambled on, but this has really taken me down memory lane. Dad died 25 years ago this month. I miss him very much and I know Mom would love to still hear those excuses about the toaster.

6

My father plays in a lot of pool tournaments and is the best player I’ve ever seen. He taught me a lot about pool, especially tricks to hard shots.

When I was 16 or so, on our Daddy-Daughter Days we would go to a local bar and shark unsuspecting victims. These 20 year olds would look at me, a scrawny, nerdy kid and my old, fat-ass father and bet (drinks and money) that they’d win the game.

We never lost.

Pop would let me keep the cash, while he drank the drinks.

What a great influence.

7

I just thought of another one.

When I was about 7 or 8, I was just about to fall asleep when my dad burst into my bedroom and started beating me . . . with a pillow.

He then ran out, went to my sister’s room and woke her up with repeated blows from the pillow. We ran around for over an hour having a pillow fight, hiding throughout the house and ambushing each other.

The next day, my dad let us stay home from school and we all went to the zoo. To this day, I don’t know what brought on the sudden pillow fight and free day from school.

8

Thanks for the reminder brachyrhynchos,

Dad could fix or build anything. A trait I’m extremely proud that he passed along.

There are so many things that he taught me. At 17, I had run out of gas about a mile from the house. Since I was driving toward the house instead of the gas station I was doomed to a stroll that day.

After walking home, getting the gas can, Mom driving to the gas station and ultimately back to the car where we put the contents of said can into the car, THEN driving back to the gas station to fill the tank, we finally got home.

Dad asked, “where ya been?”

To which I replied, “I ran out of gas over on…”

Dad, in his level-headed, common-sense style replied, “keep the top half full and the bottom half will take care of itself.”

I never run out of gas again.
SouthernStyle

9

I’m bumping this thread up - I love these stories (pillow attacks, flying baby time - all of them) and I want more!

10

When I was in pre-shcool I couldn’t think of anything to bring on show-and-tell day. My teacher asked me what I had that I was the most proud of, and my immediate answer was “My dad.”

The morning came for my show-and-tell and I woke up early to help dad pick out what he would wear. I insisted on his Superman t-shirt, so that’s what he wore. When we got there, he sat quietly in the back of the classroom until it was my turn. When the teacher called on me, I went and grabbed his hand and brought him up to the front and said “This is the thing I’m most proud to have: my dad.” He worked for United Airlines and had brought each kid one of those little “Fun-Pak’s” that kids got when they flew. It had a pilot puppet, a deck of cards, a little game and some plastic captain’s wings. Then he got out his guitar and we all sang “Puff the Magic Dragon”.

For the rest of the day, everybody ran around wearing their little captain’s wings and I was the coolest kid in class and I had the best dad in the world.

I was so proud of him.

11

When I was 6, I asked my dad what he did for a living. He told me he was a dad for a living, he only worked to make money. “Being your dad is my job.” That statement made more of an impact than anything else he ever said to me.

I was (and am) a very imaginative child. We’d invent games all the time, one of my favorite was The Finger Family. I’d take a pen and draw crude faces on each of my dad’s fingers. The pinky was Little Baby, ring finger was The Mom, middle finger was The Dad, index was Big Sister and the thumb was Big Baby. They’d talk, the two babies would get in fights. I’d provide the voices, and disipline the babies when they were bad.

I had two cowboy dolls, a girl and a boy. They were Sherriff John and Sherriff Sally, and they ruled the west with an iron fist. Alright, they ruled the rest of my stuffed animals. Dad would be the bad guys, I’d be the Sherriffs. Great fun.

Off to buy my father tickets to see Dylan…

12

Dad number 1 (my 'bio-dad): Lots of little things, but my favorite moments come from watching him when he doesn’t know he’s being watched. He has an utter ease with little babies that is unusual in men of his generation (from what I’ve seen, anyway). You can see how every fiber of his body is tuned into the balance and next movement of a child, even if he’s looking the other way. He is also a creative and very competent engineer, and I like watching him tinker with something he’s made - he gets very quiet and calm, and so sure of himself that you know he could do ANYTHING.

Dad number 2 (step-dad who raised me most of my childhood): Honestly, the man never grew up himself, but at least he knew how to have fun (even if he was a TERRIBLE role model for adulthood). My favorite memories are flying inches above the surface of a lake in a hot air balloon (him piloting), watching the water skim by under our feet, just revelling in the moment and the speed; and the look on his face after I danced (Scottish/Ladies Step) for my sister’s wedding, when he realized I’d grown up while he wasn’t around and I wasn’t a little girl anymore. He told me he was proud of me, and was impressed with my grace, as well. That was one of the pivotal moments of my life, when I first really felt like a grown-up. (Why is it that your Dad saying he’s proud of you means so much?)

Dad number 3 (step dad who managed to survive my teen years): While he wasn’t married to my mom for very long (that one was a mistake - they were better as friends), our relationship has lasted long past that. He’s my dad as much as any other dad is, and he and I regularly have lunch together. I think it is the long series of lunches at various local retaurants that is the best ‘memory’… including the real content of our talks, about life, marriage, parenthood, religion, work, money, retirement, and now, as he is getting into his 70s, death. (of course, he’s also remarrying, has yet to retire, and not that long ago took up sail-boarding, so I think he has a ways to go yet…) Through him, I figured out how to manage my adult-child to adult-parent relationship with Dad #1.

People often ask me how I feel about having so many parents (don’t get me started listing the step-moms!). I actually feel I got a great deal - three very different men, all of them fathers to me, all with something unique to offer. I guess others may get that from uncles, but the responsibility of the relationship is different. While none of them was anything like perfect, I’m glad I had each of them.

Nice topic. Totally smooshy. :slight_smile:

13

My memories of dad include so many wonderful ones. I was a real daddy’s girl. One of my fondest that spreads over a span of time is that we enjoyed cooking together. As a a young girl we would create. He called me Booner, My Official Taster. He would work on a meal and part way through would say, okay here’s the big test. I would taste it, make funny faces and say, it needs… then I’d roam through his spice cupboard and start adding things. He never stopped me from adding spices that were a little less than desireable, but we did have a few good laughs at some of the end results.

Dad was also one of those that got involved with all the neighbourhood kids. If one of us had a friend who couldnt afford to partake in an activity, he picked up the tab for them. He played football with all of us across the three lawns, brought out his big bucket of ice cream and cones as a treat. He was a very loved man in our neighbourhood and he definitely loved kids.

He taught me how to fish, change a tire, and god bless him, to drive. He never missed a dance concert, school event or any other activity I was involved in. He was always cheering from the sidelines at my baseball games.

I miss that my son is growing up without this wonderful grandfather, going for walks holding hands as I did with him right into adulthood. But I sure have a ton of memories to giggle and laugh about.

Thanks for starting this thread Brat, I’m feeling much better about fathers day now.

Creations by Dad and Booner Inc.

14

You guys are killing me. I only wish I had something to share… :frowning:

Keep going.

15

Try: http://www.rootsweb.com/

Search for him & his roots! It’s got better results for California birth people.

Im grateful I searched, however, not too crazy about some of the stuff I found out.

16

Dad’s day is this weekend. Before you run out and by him a cheesy card and ugly tie, read this thread and remind yourself how lucky you are if you grew up under the guidance of a good father. Many people take their parents for granted, they’ve always been there and we expect them to always be there. Please take time to remember all the good things your parents have done for you and let your dad know this weekend that you love him.