Father's Day 2013

Another time, another place.....

At the beginning of our life adventure--
I smile of the memories of Dad picking me up and
Twirling me around, our walks, talks, and card games
When he seemed to change the rules at every junction--and
Those times when I had to leave and go
Back to my life in Dallas, Dad forever said, "Be my prettiest girl"
So hard to believe he's been gone since 2001
I miss my Daddy.

Monday Memory

Yesterday was Father's Day here in the United States
And now, it is back to Monday and back to routine--
However, I want to remember a time from a
Galaxy long, long ago when all I was
Concerned about when I would be tall enough
To reach the water fountain all by myself!
In this case, I was three years old and got
By with a litte help from a friend....!
Miss you, Daddy!  

June 17, 2001 was Father's Day

....and the last one I had with my Dad.
A King Edward cigar-
My dad's favorite,
Waits for him.
Just as I do-
Until I see my Dad again
In Heaven.

Father's Day 2011

This is my 10th Father's Day without my Daddy. Doesn't seem like it's been a decade since I became an adult orphan. I would hear his voice on the phone, every weekend "Just wonderin' what yer up to" he'd say. Dad usually called on Saturday morns, about 10ish or so. I wouldn't leave my apartment until we spoke.

The last few months of his life, Dad wasn't able to call me, so I called him. Those were bittersweet times. I knew life would soon change as we both knew it. I'm still in a 'change' mode--these years later. Dad would get a kick out of that and just chew on that King Edward Cigar.

In fact, if I showed Dad one of these terra cotta pots I'm trying to perfect, he'd size it up, just kinda nod, then use it as an ashtray for those ashes of said King Edward Cigar. Then he'd tell me to just keep on tryin, 'cause I would get one of these times.

Dad liked to fish, loved his westerns, devoured pineapple malts, put hot sauce on his chit'lins, send me at least a dozen birthday cards, ask me if I caught any Andy Griffith episodes, boast about the Iowa Hawkeyes, sip on scotch and milk when he shouldn't be, pet my cats and they would play with the smoke rings from said King Edward cigar, fry me up pork chops whenever I went back to Iowa and we'd sit at our kitchen table and just talk. Those were the BEST times

Just Dad and me.
What I choose to remember
And blessed my Daddy's spirit dances with me still
Sometime I think I can smell that cigar smoke...

Father's Day 2010

As I write this, Father's Day 2010 ticks to done for another year.
I miss my Dad.
Our last Father's Day together was 2001.
Dad would laugh today when I'd tell him we all wore cowboy gear to church--now Cowboy Football gear. Nope, COWBOY as out on the prairie cowboy gear. Guys on horse back, as well as stagecoaches, were in the parking lot. The pulpit was decorated with hay and a little tiny pony, a donkey, a cute llama would peek his head out ever now and then, plus bunnies and baby piggies and alot of root-tootin' fun. And yes, my pastor Rickie Rush, of Inspiring Body of Christ Church brought the Word too. Me, myself I work a black cowboy hat which was solid investment of 99 cents at the GoodWill. Got compliments on it, even tho I think I look liked I robbed a stagecoach.
Yep, Dad would laugh and chew on that infamous King Edward cigar.
So as this Father Day ends
I'll curl in bed
And realize our days do still begin-
Then I smile.

June 21, 2009 is Father's Day

Big Daddy Don (as a chum called him) has been gone since October 2001. Still so miss the ever King Edward cigar smokin' let's go fishin and then stop and get some ice cream guy! :) I had a habit of sending Dad a good dozen cards on Father's Day-. How that started, I really don't know. Just what I did. And I miss doing that too.

Could go on and on and ON about memories-good and bad-however, I won't. Not right now.

I do picture being back in our house in Iowa with my belly filled with Dad's dee-lish bar-b-q. Dad would situated in his chair, while I sat across from him. The cats (I hauled 750 miles from Dallas) and Dad's hound called a truce and snooze somewhere. With King Edward cigar in his mouth, and ashes sprinkle on his shirt, Dad clicks through channels on the remote.

And then Dad finds the channel that takes us to where we both like to go: Mayberry

Memory--indeed.

I am blessed.

In Two Weeks

In two weeks it will be Father's Day. Just around the corner. As like my dad's May 17th birthday was a couple blocks back. :) From my dad, I posses what laid backness I do have. Maybe my internal toughness too.

After my 2006 open heart surgery, one of my doctors said, "You have a high tolerance for pain." While a nurse announced, "Don't be so brave!" When it came to my lack of asking for a pain killers. See, I wasn't that sure what the pain was suppose to feel like. More of an annoyance. Got that mindset from my dad.

What are Dad and my eight year old so so self talking about? Maybe how Mom snapped this picture with a Polariod camera and we will see the results in 60 seconds? Or how a lifetime away from this moment I would 'blog' about him on a personal computer? Or maybe get ice cream at the Tasty Freeze while we're out for more King Edward cigars?

Who knows? Wish I did.

I did choose to remember and celebrate Dad with an original poem and photograph. Go take a look. You may remember too:http://7thstreetslant.etsy.com

I am blessed.

This Day....

October 18 in 2001, was a Thursday. That’s the day Dad died. His death was the rotten cherry on an already soggy cake of a day. The call from the nursing home came at 3 pm. Due to some work departmental thing, I was involved in, didn’t hear my voice mails until 3:30. When the calling number was recited, I knew. I rarely received Iowa calls during work days. I knew. The ironic thing was, the nursing home went to rouse him for a doctor’s appointment, because he hadn't felt well. But Dad beat them to the punch: he made an appointment to go Home and went the way he wanted: in his sleep

Diabetes, a vile culprit, caused a foot to be amputated in January 1997. Unfortunately, during Dad’s rehab, his vision worsened. I always believed that contributed to lack of self-confidence. The robust man I knew, began to physically weaken. Never saw Dad again without the use of a cane, even tho the doctor gave him a great prognosis with his prosthetic foot. Dad never grasped that.

Diabetes robbed his entire sight in July 2001. It would never return. Dad’s dark brown eyes were now outlined with thin ring of blue. I joked with Dad, how at 77, he finally got blue eyes. Dad was fitted with a pacemaker, and then transported to a local nursing home for rehab. So he could learn to live without his eyes, and eventually go home. That didn’t happen.

Eventho there were folks Dad had grown up with or worked with, at the nursing home, it still wasn’t home. Still not his chair, the ‘clicker’ for the TV or his dog, Peaches, a chubby little Chihuahua who kept guard. It just wasn’t home. After I was told Dad’s rehab wasn’t going as well as expected, I asked him how he’d feel if he had to stay longer.

My father’s response: “Oh, baby, I would die.”

Father's Day...

Today is Father’s Day.

Dad would have opened the dozen or so cards I got him.

He would have fixed us pancakes---even though it was his day.

We would chat over our bountiful breakfast.

Reminisce about the time I slit open Christmas packages, and then tried to tape them back together.

Or the time we made a bird house together.

Or the time he took me on my first airplane ride.

Or we would talk about my mom. How she passed away so young, then

We would laugh about all the Cheeseburger Hamburger Helper we ate after she left.

Today would have been our day. Daddy Daughter Time.

We might have gone fishing. Just the two of us.

Dad has now been gone seven years. Time does not stop.

Sometimes I swear I still smell his King Edward cigar.

I know Dad is with me. I rejoice that he and my mom are together.

My God gave me parents who loved me more than life itself.

I know I am loved.

I know I am blessed.

Everyday is Father’s Day.