THE FOLLOWING I WROTE THIS MORNING AS A COMMENT TO PILAR'S WONDERFUL POST ABOUT HER DAD. MY COMMENT BECAME LONGER AND LONGER, SO I DECIDED TO SHARE MY DAD WITH YOU, DEAR STREAMER FRIENDS.
My dad had a lot of bitterness inside of him, but I think I'll fast forward to the last 15 years of his life instead, to happier times.
Dad loved to work with his hands. He had an extraordinary IQ and he made some awesome puzzles and unique things out of wood. I always wanted to work with wood, so one day I asked him, I was already an adult with hubby and a child, if I could try using the band saw. He asked what did I have in mind? I decided I wanted to make something to hang on my son's bedroom wall. I drew out a marching soldier with a hat like the ones worn by the Queen's guards. He showed me how to cut it and did tell me how to be careful. Dad had a couple of missing fingertips when he became distracted years before. The soldier was the beginning and I have loved working with wood ever since.
The most important beginning that day was a new relationship that developed between my dad and I. Whenever I would visit them, he would whisk me away into the garage to show me whatever he was working on at the time. I have three younger brothers, but I was the one who loved what he loved.
We also found another thing in common, the interest in our family tree. We would sit for hours while he told me stories. I had planned to try to have a long visit during the summer to record all of the stories he shared, but like so many things, I put it on the back burner and then he was gone.
While he was in the hospital, I visited with him because my mom and brothers didn't stay very long because they don't like hospitals and my two older sisters live out of state. I will cherish those hours, just me and Daddy. He was lucid some of the time.
He had a little red pickup truck and oh how he loved that truck. He told me when he got out of the hospital, he and I would load up the back with camping gear and go on a cross country trip to visit the grave sites of family and visit all the places where our ancestors had walked and lived before us. I knew we would never be able to make the trip because we knew he was dying, but he didn't.
(A YEAR AFTER HIS DEATH, MY HUSBAND, MY MOM AND I DID TAKE A TRIP TO THE PLACE OF MY DAD'S BIRTH AND MY BIRTH IN OREGON. WE ALSO VISITED WITH FAMILY IN WASHINGTON. THE TRIP WAS UNFORGETTABLE AND OF COURSE, ALTHOUGH MY DAD WASN'T PHYSICALLY WITH US, I FELT HIS PRESENCE ON ANOTHER LEVEL)
Father's Day, being tomorrow, is a time to celebrate our DADS! I am so fortunate to have had known my dad in a different way than any of my siblings had known him. To me that is such a loss for them and such a blessing for me.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL!
Karen
