Father's Day: share a story about YOUR dad!

[unsinkable]

Now, for those of you with good memories, you might recall my dad was not the kindest of men. But I love him & loved him and I want to share this story that I remembered from reading Pajama Mama's thread about making cabbage rolls for her DH.

 

My dad was of Polish ancestry. Cabbage rolls are called golumpki. My mother was of Irish ancestry. Cabbage was called part of boiled dinner. :D :lol: :D

Mom didn't know from golumpki so my dad taught her.

 

My mom would make teeny-tiny bite-sized cabbage rolls. She made about 3 or 4 rolls per cabbage leaf. This is how dad taught her because he liked them bite-sized. It would take her foooorevvvvvvveeeeeeeeehhhhhhh.

 

After a few years of doing this, my parents went to dinner at my dad's brother's house where his wife served golumpki that each were about as big as an overweight hamster. My mom innocently asked, "What are these?"

 

Boy, was she mad when she found out that MOST people make cabbage rolls with one roll per leaf! But my dad lead her to believe the only way to make them was 3 or 4 rolls per leaf.

 

For the record, from that day forward, my mom made golumpki the size of overweight hamsters. :lol::D:lol:

[Shelly in IL]

When we were little girls, my dad bit his fingernails horribly. When we would ask him about it, he said, "Oh, honey, my fingernail was blown off in the war."

 

When we would question him further, he would say, "Yes, it was those darn enemy snippers!" (incidentally, my dad was never in the military!!)

[BridgeTea]

My dad had the same items in his shirt pocket for years: a little black comb, some metal calipers, a small metal ruler, his cigarettes, and a PaperMate pen that he bought dozens of refills for. He kept these items his whole adult life, and they were in the pocket of every button-up shirt he ever wore, no matter what he was doing. Working, cutting wood, fishing, riding his motorcycle, running the roto-tiller, riding the Zipper at the state fair, it didn't matter. These items fell out of his pocket many, many times, but somehow he always managed to keep track of them. It was kind of a family joke that he didn't go anywhere without these items, and Mom would just groan when he wouldn't take them out of his pocket and we'd all get roped into helping him find them.

 

My mom kept the pen and the two metal tools after he died, and I've got them now since she's gone, also.

 

My favorite memory involving the pocket contents: Dad came home late one night to find sulky, pouting 11 year old me sitting on the porch in the dark. He came up and asked what was wrong. When he found out I was sulking because I couldn't do cartwheels like all the other kids, he set down his briefcase and offered to demonstrate. Off he went across the yard in the dark, cartwheeling perfectly over and over, with comb, ruler, pen, and cigarettes flying through the air. I laughed then, and the memory still makes me smile.

[unsinkable]

When we were little girls, my dad bit his fingernails horribly. When we would ask him about it, he said, "Oh, honey, my fingernail was blown off in the war."

 

When we would question him further, he would say, "Yes, it was those darn enemy snippers!" (incidentally, my dad was never in the military!!)

 

That's a cute story!

[unsinkable]

My dad had the same items in his shirt pocket for years: a little black comb, some metal calipers, a small metal ruler, his cigarettes, and a PaperMate pen that he bought dozens of refills for. He kept these items his whole adult life, and they were in the pocket of every button-up shirt he ever wore, no matter what he was doing. Working, cutting wood, fishing, riding his motorcycle, running the roto-tiller, riding the Zipper at the state fair, it didn't matter. These items fell out of his pocket many, many times, but somehow he always managed to keep track of them. It was kind of a family joke that he didn't go anywhere without these items, and Mom would just groan when he wouldn't take them out of his pocket and we'd all get roped into helping him find them.

 

My mom kept the pen and the two metal tools after he died, and I've got them now since she's gone, also.

 

My favorite memory involving the pocket contents: Dad came home late one night to find sulky, pouting 11 year old me sitting on the porch in the dark. He came up and asked what was wrong. When he found out I was sulking because I couldn't do cartwheels like all the other kids, he set down his briefcase and offered to demonstrate. Off he went across the yard in the dark, cartwheeling perfectly over and over, with comb, ruler, pen, and cigarettes flying through the air. I laughed then, and the memory still makes me smile.

 

Awesome. I can picture this!

[m0mmaBuck]

I used to go hunting with Dad and my brothers. One day were were out hunting quail in the snow. Dad was always concerned that I would fall and hurt myself (I am the baby, after all... and I was 19 or 20 at this time) so he went into great length describing how there were tree roots covered by the snow and I needed to be careful or I could trip and fall. He finishes the lesson and starts to walk away... when he slips and falls, doing a perfect face plant into the snow (imagine falling forward to do a snow angel rather than backward). My brothers and I laughed so hard watching him lay there, face down, wiggling each body part separately to make sure everything was still intact before he slowly got up, caked with snow from head to toe.

[LibraryLover]

My dad sang to us all the time. He knows/knew the scores to bunches of shows. I knew all the lyrics to Man of La Mancha at one time. :lol: "This is my quest...to follow that star....no matter how hopeless, no matter how far..." My dad had a powerful voice, and I still get goose bumps. He also sang and danced to Mac the Knife. We kids loved it. I can still see him snapping his fingers, swaying...he looked just like Dick Van Dyke to me back then.

[Classical Country Mama]

I grew up in Asia, and one of our favorite treats was fresh-made steamed meat buns, bought off the back of a truck sort of thing. Sooo tasty. Anyway, one day my dad "admitted" to us they were made out of ground, cultured earthworms. :ack2: We were disgusted and horrified, and couldn't bring ourselves to eat them again.

 

Took me years to figure out he'd been joking.... in fact, only recently.... And now picture all the years I went around bragging to friends that I'd eaten worms as a kid. Serves me right... :blushing: He got a little TOO much mileage on that one, ha!!!! In fact, he still giggles when I mention it. And I still blush.

[OnTheBrink]

My dad taught me to read when he was working on his Ph.Ds. When he was busy studying and needed me to leave him alone, he'd give me one of his textbooks and tell me to figure out what the words were. I had no clue what I was reading at the time, but did figure out the words phonetically. (I read so many texts, that I think I deserve a Ph.D, too! LOL)

 

He'd also read to me from Dr. Suess books and the other "I can read it!" books. I remember so fondly him reading "The Best Nest!" and "If They Put Me in the Zoo," along with "Cat in The Hat, " and "And To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street."

 

I didn't know until YEARS later that the reason he read all those tricky Dr. Suess books to me was because he had a horrible speech impediment and had difficulty getting his thoughts across verbally. Reading all those books to me not only sealed our bond, but helped him drastically train himself to speak correctly.

 

He also taught me to swim in the ocean when I was very young. By the time I got to swimming lessons at the YMCA later, I had NO fear of being in the water at all.

 

And here's a funny one: My dad barked when startled. I don't know how or why it got started, but if something startled him, he'd bark!:lol: So, one day, when I was about 10, he was in the kitchen, looking for the cheese in the fridge. He said, "Oh, cheese, cheese, where are you?" and I, hiding behind the bar, squeeked, "I'm in here somewhere!" and he jumped back and barked at the fridge! OMGosh, I laughed my butt off, it was so funny!

[Audrey]

I remember being quite small and getting to go on my dad's ship (he was a MasterCPO in the US Navy at the time, and the ranking NCO of this ship). I remember marvelling at all the amazing things in the ship, but nothing marvelled me more than seeing how much everyone respected my dad. But, my dad saluted this one guy, who dad said was one of the Officers of this ship.

 

I remember having breakfast on the ship with my dad and when I had to leave, my dad gave me a real salute, too. And I giggled and asked why he did that. He said, "Because you're one of the officers of my heart, sweetpea."

 

After that he was gone for many months, and when he came back he was not the same person anymore. War sucks that way. But, he did work really hard to be a good daddy, and he was. He really was. Still, I remember that day as the last bit of my "silly daddy." I'm so grateful I knew him, too. My dad passed away 5 years ago. This memory is still one of the most frequent and enduring memories I have of him. Such a very small gesture when you think about it, but what an impact it had on me.

Edited June 20, 2010 by Audrey

[elise1mds]

I'm just rolling with laughter at all these stories! I have a sweet story about my own dad and a really funny one about my FIL.

 

My parents were not demonstrative with love. My dad wouldn't verbalize it, either, and was a huge workaholic. When I got to be a teen and was able to drive myself around, I would often be at school at 6 a.m. (band started at 7), got out of school at 2:40, worked from 3 till 6 or 7 p.m. and then would be out with friends till 'curfew.' On Friday, which were football game days (I was in band), I'd just stay at school the whole day. I honestly thought that my parents never, ever came to a game except for Senior Night. I found out about five years afterward that my dad had come to many of the games and just never told me. I didn't believe him till he started telling stories about the stuff that I would do in the bandstands (oooops). I cried and cried to find out that he had cared enough to come and was just amazed that he had never told me.

 

My FIL came to visit about six months after DH and I got married. We were in a one-bedroom apartment, so he agreed to sleep on our very uncomfortable futon in the living room. In the middle of the second night, once the jet lag from a flight from Australia had worn off, I awoke to the sound of HOWLING. Scared the poo out of me till DH started laughing. "That's Dad," he said. "I forgot he did that." Apparently when this man dreams, he howls like a wolf. My FIL is remarried now, and we still get a lot of mileage out of the howling because he still does it. :D

[ChristusG]

I don't have a particular story....I just remember my dad always doing fun things with us. He'd take us on bike rides through the neighborhood, to the local park to play, hiking at the local nature trails, etc.

 

And he was/is funny. Always had a dry humor joke. He made up a song about me and him and he'd sing it. He'd put me to bed and say bedtime prayers with me at night. He helped coach my softball team. I loved having the opportunity to go to work with him at times. It was always fun.

 

He's a great dad and now he's a great poppy to my girls.

[Lisa in Jax]

My dad died 25 years ago, but he was an AMAZING dad. He never wanted to be married and have kids, but when he met my mom and they had me... he took on the role with gusto.

 

Some fun memories:

 

My dad used to make up lyrics to popular songs when he was in a silly mood.

He was always ready to socialize. When I was in a play in college, he was the life of the cast party. ;-)

 

When something was hot, he'd whistle (like a bird), three short "tweets." About four years ago, I was in the kitchen and dd (then about 12) was in another room. I took something out of the oven that was hot, and unconsciously "tweeted" three short tweets. From the next room (where she couldn't actually see what I was doing), Dd said, "What's so hot, Mom?" Apparently, I picked up the habit w/o realizing it. ;-)

 

 

When my dad and I talked on the phone, the last thing we *always* said to each other was, "I love you." So, the very last thing I ever said to my dad was "I love you." I'm SO glad we always said it, b/c after he died suddenly (the day after a very normal telephone call) and it brought me more comfort than I can explain. It's a habit I continue with my dh and my kids. No matter how rushed, or frustrated, or whatever, we finish phone calls with "I love you." We do the same when one of us leaves the house -- no matter how quick the trip will be.

 

My dad died when I was still an immature college kid. I *so* wish I could have known him as an adult. He's never met my husband, a stellar dad in his own right, or his grandkids. I love him, and I miss him.

 

Happy Father's Day, Dad. <3

 

Lisa

[smrtmama]

When my father was 16, he ran off to Sweden with a couple of kids whom his father had picked up hitching (my grandpa was a cop in NYC, and he saw these Swede kids camping out in the park, felt sorry for them, and took them home w/ him). My dad ended up living in Sweden for about 18 months.

 

At one point, he and his friend Lenny (or however it's spelled in Swedish) had gone to Germany and were on the Autobahn, hitch-hiking, which isn't legal, of course. This car stops and a guy got out and tried to force them into the back of the car, yelling at them in German the whole time, which neither my dad nor Lenny spoke (they spoke English and Swedish). Well, my daddy grabbed the guy by the arms and Lenny punched him in the face!

 

It turned out the guy was a plainclothes German police officer in an unmarked car. Oops. My dad and Lenny were arrested and spent the night in jail, where the language barrier was sussed out. Daddy and Lenny were escorted to the border, put on a ferry, and told not ever to come back to Germany! On the way home, they bought a bunch of duty-free liquor and hid it in their trenchcoat pockets, successfully smuggling it back in to Sweden.

 

The End :)

[Anna]

Back in the mid-1950's my dad was digging ditching for a living. Then he stumbled onto a construction company where the owners were impressed with his work ethics. They offered to train him to become a civil engineer. He took the job and he learned the skills of a civil engineer through OTJ training. Every night he came home with tons of paper work. It was stuff he had to learn/know for the very next day's work. He worked as a civil engineer for over 50 years. Today, he is almost 85 years old and still does consulting work as a civil engineer. I am so proud of what my dad did with his life.

[unsinkable]

I used to go hunting with Dad and my brothers. One day were were out hunting quail in the snow. Dad was always concerned that I would fall and hurt myself (I am the baby, after all... and I was 19 or 20 at this time) so he went into great length describing how there were tree roots covered by the snow and I needed to be careful or I could trip and fall. He finishes the lesson and starts to walk away... when he slips and falls, doing a perfect face plant into the snow (imagine falling forward to do a snow angel rather than backward). My brothers and I laughed so hard watching him lay there, face down, wiggling each body part separately to make sure everything was still intact before he slowly got up, caked with snow from head to toe.

 

I love This!

[unsinkable]

My dad sang to us all the time. He knows/knew the scores to bunches of shows. I knew all the lyrics to Man of La Mancha at one time. :lol: "This is my quest...to follow that star....no matter how hopeless, no matter how far..." My dad had a powerful voice, and I still get goose bumps. He also sang and danced to Mac the Knife. We kids loved it. I can still see him snapping his fingers, swaying...he looked just like Dick Van Dyke to me back then.

 

That's neat!

 

I loved DVD as Bert in MarY Poppins --- did your dad know those songs? :)

[unsinkable]

I grew up in Asia, and one of our favorite treats was fresh-made steamed meat buns, bought off the back of a truck sort of thing. Sooo tasty. Anyway, one day my dad "admitted" to us they were made out of ground, cultured earthworms. :ack2: We were disgusted and horrified, and couldn't bring ourselves to eat them again.

 

Took me years to figure out he'd been joking.... in fact, only recently.... And now picture all the years I went around bragging to friends that I'd eaten worms as a kid. Serves me right... :blushing: He got a little TOO much mileage on that one, ha!!!! In fact, he still giggles when I mention it. And I still blush.

 

This is so funny!

[unsinkable]

My dad taught me to read when he was working on his Ph.Ds. When he was busy studying and needed me to leave him alone, he'd give me one of his textbooks and tell me to figure out what the words were. I had no clue what I was reading at the time, but did figure out the words phonetically. (I read so many texts, that I think I deserve a Ph.D, too! LOL)

 

He'd also read to me from Dr. Suess books and the other "I can read it!" books. I remember so fondly him reading "The Best Nest!" and "If They Put Me in the Zoo," along with "Cat in The Hat, " and "And To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street."

 

I didn't know until YEARS later that the reason he read all those tricky Dr. Suess books to me was because he had a horrible speech impediment and had difficulty getting his thoughts across verbally. Reading all those books to me not only sealed our bond, but helped him drastically train himself to speak correctly.

He also taught me to swim in the ocean when I was very young. By the time I got to swimming lessons at the YMCA later, I had NO fear of being in the water at all.

 

And here's a funny one: My dad barked when startled. I don't know how or why it got started, but if something startled him, he'd bark!:lol: So, one day, when I was about 10, he was in the kitchen, looking for the cheese in the fridge. He said, "Oh, cheese, cheese, where are you?" and I, hiding behind the bar, squeeked, "I'm in here somewhere!" and he jumped back and barked at the fridge! OMGosh, I laughed my butt off, it was so funny!

 

So sweet!

[unsinkable]

I remember being quite small and getting to go on my dad's ship (he was a MasterCPO in the US Navy at the time, and the ranking NCO of this ship). I remember marvelling at all the amazing things in the ship, but nothing marvelled me more than seeing how much everyone respected my dad. But, my dad saluted this one guy, who dad said was one of the Officers of this ship.

 

I remember having breakfast on the ship with my dad and when I had to leave, my dad gave me a real salute, too. And I giggled and asked why he did that. He said, "Because you're one of the officers of my heart, sweetpea."

 

After that he was gone for many months, and when he came back he was not the same person anymore. War sucks that way. But, he did work really hard to be a good daddy, and he was. He really was. Still, I remember that day as the last bit of my "silly daddy." I'm so grateful I knew him, too. My dad passed away 5 years ago. This memory is still one of the most frequent and enduring memories I have of him. Such a very small gesture when you think about it, but what an impact it had on me.

 

:grouphug:

 

My dad was in the Navy, too. He lied about his age to join the Merchant Marines in the last months of WWII.

[unsinkable]

I'm just rolling with laughter at all these stories! I have a sweet story about my own dad and a really funny one about my FIL.

 

My parents were not demonstrative with love. My dad wouldn't verbalize it, either, and was a huge workaholic. When I got to be a teen and was able to drive myself around, I would often be at school at 6 a.m. (band started at 7), got out of school at 2:40, worked from 3 till 6 or 7 p.m. and then would be out with friends till 'curfew.' On Friday, which were football game days (I was in band), I'd just stay at school the whole day. I honestly thought that my parents never, ever came to a game except for Senior Night. I found out about five years afterward that my dad had come to many of the games and just never told me. I didn't believe him till he started telling stories about the stuff that I would do in the bandstands (oooops). I cried and cried to find out that he had cared enough to come and was just amazed that he had never told me.

My FIL came to visit about six months after DH and I got married. We were in a one-bedroom apartment, so he agreed to sleep on our very uncomfortable futon in the living room. In the middle of the second night, once the jet lag from a flight from Australia had worn off, I awoke to the sound of HOWLING. Scared the poo out of me till DH started laughing. "That's Dad," he said. "I forgot he did that." Apparently when this man dreams, he howls like a wolf. My FIL is remarried now, and we still get a lot of mileage out of the howling because he still does it. :D

 

That brought tears to my eyes. :grouphug:

[unsinkable]

When my father was 16, he ran off to Sweden with a couple of kids whom his father had picked up hitching (my grandpa was a cop in NYC, and he saw these Swede kids camping out in the park, felt sorry for them, and took them home w/ him). My dad ended up living in Sweden for about 18 months.

 

At one point, he and his friend Lenny (or however it's spelled in Swedish) had gone to Germany and were on the Autobahn, hitch-hiking, which isn't legal, of course. This car stops and a guy got out and tried to force them into the back of the car, yelling at them in German the whole time, which neither my dad nor Lenny spoke (they spoke English and Swedish). Well, my daddy grabbed the guy by the arms and Lenny punched him in the face!

 

It turned out the guy was a plainclothes German police officer in an unmarked car. Oops. My dad and Lenny were arrested and spent the night in jail, where the language barrier was sussed out. Daddy and Lenny were escorted to the border, put on a ferry, and told not ever to come back to Germany! On the way home, they bought a bunch of duty-free liquor and hid it in their trenchcoat pockets, successfully smuggling it back in to Sweden.

 

The End :)

 

Wow! You have to save these stories for your kids!

[unsinkable]

I don't have a particular story....I just remember my dad always doing fun things with us. He'd take us on bike rides through the neighborhood, to the local park to play, hiking at the local nature trails, etc.

 

And he was/is funny. Always had a dry humor joke. He made up a song about me and him and he'd sing it. He'd put me to bed and say bedtime prayers with me at night. He helped coach my softball team. I loved having the opportunity to go to work with him at times. It was always fun.

 

He's a great dad and now he's a great poppy to my girls.

 

It is so sweet to remember the little things, too, along with the big moments. Those everyday things that are the building blocks of our times together with our families.

[DawnM]

I am blessed with an incredible dad.

 

I grew up in Africa as some of you know. My dad was a surgeon. I can remember watching so many surgeries over the years. From the age of about 7 on, my dad would not only perform the surgery, but explain to me in great detail exactly what he was doing, why he was doing it, and why this person needed whatever surgery it was. He never watered down the language, he just used medical terms and then explained each one so that I could understand. He had the patience of a saint. Years later someone wrote about him in a book and said he would have been a fantastic doctor in a teaching hospital as he really had a gift for teaching.

 

I often wonder if my D in chemistry in 10th grade and my decision to not go into medicine made him sad. He never said so if it did.

 

Dawn

[unsinkable]

My dad died 25 years ago, but he was an AMAZING dad. He never wanted to be married and have kids, but when he met my mom and they had me... he took on the role with gusto.

 

Some fun memories:

 

My dad used to make up lyrics to popular songs when he was in a silly mood.

He was always ready to socialize. When I was in a play in college, he was the life of the cast party. ;-)

 

When something was hot, he'd whistle (like a bird), three short "tweets." About four years ago, I was in the kitchen and dd (then about 12) was in another room. I took something out of the oven that was hot, and unconsciously "tweeted" three short tweets. From the next room (where she couldn't actually see what I was doing), Dd said, "What's so hot, Mom?" Apparently, I picked up the habit w/o realizing it. ;-)

 

 

When my dad and I talked on the phone, the last thing we *always* said to each other was, "I love you." So, the very last thing I ever said to my dad was "I love you." I'm SO glad we always said it, b/c after he died suddenly (the day after a very normal telephone call) and it brought me more comfort than I can explain. It's a habit I continue with my dh and my kids. No matter how rushed, or frustrated, or whatever, we finish phone calls with "I love you." We do the same when one of us leaves the house -- no matter how quick the trip will be.

 

My dad died when I was still an immature college kid. I *so* wish I could have known him as an adult. He's never met my husband, a stellar dad in his own right, or his grandkids. I love him, and I miss him.

 

Happy Father's Day, Dad. <3

 

Lisa

 

Thank God you had that! What a nice thing!

[MomtoCandJ]

My dad has been gone for almost 5 years, he died 25 days after I had gotten married. My dad was the one that was usually at home with us because of vision problems, I was such a daddy's girl, I remember when I was 5 that I wanted to be a wielder just like him and later my brother Dan wanted to deliver newspapers like him. He didn't have high paying jobs but he worked when there was work available for him to do. I also said "I LOVE YOU" every time I talked to him and the day he died I had said it about 3 hours before he passed. I miss him so much I really wish he could have met his grandchildren because he would have been a great Papa. My dad also "adopted" kids whose dads or parents in general just didn't have time for them along with any kids I babysat.

[smrtmama]

Wow! You have to save these stories for your kids!

 

Oh believe me, they hear ALLL the Papa stories, like the time he picked up a horse a threw it.

 

The horse was totally asking for it, though.

[cajunrose]

I'm a little late chiming in but I wanted to tell about my dad too and just saw this.

 

One of my first, and greatest, memories of my dad was him taking me fishing at about 5 years old. It meant the world to me. He spent all day long out fishing with me. He told me to tell him where to stop the boat and we would fish wherever I told him to stop. I caught a lot more fish than my dad and was SO proud. I never forgot that day.

 

A couple of years ago, I was telling that story to somebody and my dad overheard. He filled in the details for me that I never knew. Apparently my dad had been working 80-90 hour work weeks and I never got to see him. My mom had just had a baby and I was feeling awfully neglected. He had scheduled a day off to be able to take me (and took a pay cut for it..something they couldn't afford). So the night before..in the middle of the night, he got called. He said it was his day off and he was taking his little girl fishing. They told him he had to come in or he was going to loose his job. He still told them that he was not coming in and he would be in the next day to gather his things. He hung up the phone pretty sure that this fishing day got him fired. Turns out he DIDN'T loose his job but he spent 2 days thinking he did. He never told ME of course. When he told me about that, I cried and cried. I can't believe he took that risk and did something so memorable for me. It makes me proud that I have wonderful memories of that day....it wasn't a day that my 5 year old self just forgot.

 

 

Another story....because of said job, my dad was a chain smoker. 5-6 packs a DAY. We all knew it would eventually kill him but was powerless to do anything about it. He got a bad health report back and the NEXT DAY he quit cold turkey. Never smoked another cigarette again. This was 2 years ago. I have never been more proud of a person in my entire life. In order to keep his hands busy, he built bird houses. He built me one and every day, I thank that bird house for giving my dad his life. All of my neighbors love the birdhouse and after they found out HOW I got it, they loved it even more. Here is some recent pictures of the birds in the birdhouse: http://cajunhomeschool.blogspot.com/2010/06/baby-birds.html

Since then, he got a bad health report about his liver and quit drinking the next day too. He is an alcoholic....now recovering!

 

As you can tell, my dad is very special to me. Thanks for allowing me to tell the world about him.

[3lilreds in NC]

My dad is a great storyteller. If I thought I could communicate the stories that he's told, that have made me laugh until I cried, I would tell some, but they really need his voice.

 

One abiding memory that he and I share: We had taken our little S10 pickup into the woods to cut wood for the woodburning stove. I was learning to drive. He drove the truck deep into the trees, and when it was time to go, he told me to back it out. I said, "Dad, I'm going to hit a tree." He proceeded to assure me, not terribly kindly, that I would NOT hit a tree if I just paid attention. We... discussed this for a bit, and then I got into the truck, started to back up, and hit a tree. :lol: NOW he says that he was looking at a different tree than the one I saw. I think he's making up his own memories, but whatever. :D

[unsinkable]

Back in the mid-1950's my dad was digging ditching for a living. Then he stumbled onto a construction company where the owners were impressed with his work ethics. They offered to train him to become a civil engineer. He took the job and he learned the skills of a civil engineer through OTJ training. Every night he came home with tons of paper work. It was stuff he had to learn/know for the very next day's work. He worked as a civil engineer for over 50 years. Today, he is almost 85 years old and still does consulting work as a civil engineer. I am so proud of what my dad did with his life.

 

This a wonderful story! I love to hear stories like this!

[unsinkable]

I am blessed with an incredible dad.

 

I grew up in Africa as some of you know. My dad was a surgeon. I can remember watching so many surgeries over the years. From the age of about 7 on, my dad would not only perform the surgery, but explain to me in great detail exactly what he was doing, why he was doing it, and why this person needed whatever surgery it was. He never watered down the language, he just used medical terms and then explained each one so that I could understand. He had the patience of a saint. Years later someone wrote about him in a book and said he would have been a fantastic doctor in a teaching hospital as he really had a gift for teaching.

 

I often wonder if my D in chemistry in 10th grade and my decision to not go into medicine made him sad. He never said so if it did.

 

Dawn

 

He sounds like the kind of man who would want you to do what was best for YOU even if it wasn't medicine. :grouphug:

[unsinkable]

My dad has been gone for almost 5 years, he died 25 days after I had gotten married. My dad was the one that was usually at home with us because of vision problems, I was such a daddy's girl, I remember when I was 5 that I wanted to be a wielder just like him and later my brother Dan wanted to deliver newspapers like him. He didn't have high paying jobs but he worked when there was work available for him to do. I also said "I LOVE YOU" every time I talked to him and the day he died I had said it about 3 hours before he passed. I miss him so much I really wish he could have met his grandchildren because he would have been a great Papa. My dad also "adopted" kids whose dads or parents in general just didn't have time for them along with any kids I babysat.

 

What a great guy!

[unsinkable]

I'm a little late chiming in but I wanted to tell about my dad too and just saw this.

 

One of my first, and greatest, memories of my dad was him taking me fishing at about 5 years old. It meant the world to me. He spent all day long out fishing with me. He told me to tell him where to stop the boat and we would fish wherever I told him to stop. I caught a lot more fish than my dad and was SO proud. I never forgot that day.

 

A couple of years ago, I was telling that story to somebody and my dad overheard. He filled in the details for me that I never knew. Apparently my dad had been working 80-90 hour work weeks and I never got to see him. My mom had just had a baby and I was feeling awfully neglected. He had scheduled a day off to be able to take me (and took a pay cut for it..something they couldn't afford). So the night before..in the middle of the night, he got called. He said it was his day off and he was taking his little girl fishing. They told him he had to come in or he was going to loose his job. He still told them that he was not coming in and he would be in the next day to gather his things. He hung up the phone pretty sure that this fishing day got him fired. Turns out he DIDN'T loose his job but he spent 2 days thinking he did. He never told ME of course. When he told me about that, I cried and cried. I can't believe he took that risk and did something so memorable for me. It makes me proud that I have wonderful memories of that day....it wasn't a day that my 5 year old self just forgot.

 

 

Another story....because of said job, my dad was a chain smoker. 5-6 packs a DAY. We all knew it would eventually kill him but was powerless to do anything about it. He got a bad health report back and the NEXT DAY he quit cold turkey. Never smoked another cigarette again. This was 2 years ago. I have never been more proud of a person in my entire life. In order to keep his hands busy, he built bird houses. He built me one and every day, I thank that bird house for giving my dad his life. All of my neighbors love the birdhouse and after they found out HOW I got it, they loved it even more. Here is some recent pictures of the birds in the birdhouse: http://cajunhomeschool.blogspot.com/2010/06/baby-birds.html

Since then, he got a bad health report about his liver and quit drinking the next day too. He is an alcoholic....now recovering!

As you can tell, my dad is very special to me. Thanks for allowing me to tell the world about him.

 

:grouphug::grouphug:

 

Tell him he is in my prayers for his continued recovery!

[unsinkable]

My dad is a great storyteller. If I thought I could communicate the stories that he's told, that have made me laugh until I cried, I would tell some, but they really need his voice.

 

One abiding memory that he and I share: We had taken our little S10 pickup into the woods to cut wood for the woodburning stove. I was learning to drive. He drove the truck deep into the trees, and when it was time to go, he told me to back it out. I said, "Dad, I'm going to hit a tree." He proceeded to assure me, not terribly kindly, that I would NOT hit a tree if I just paid attention. We... discussed this for a bit, and then I got into the truck, started to back up, and hit a tree. :lol: NOW he says that he was looking at a different tree than the one I saw. I think he's making up his own memories, but whatever. :D

 

oh, boy...lots of trees in the woods, huh?

 

I probably would have hit more than one!