These are random musings of my life journey, the people, animals, places, and events which have woven, and continue to weave, a tapestry that is me. We all know there is no real destination, only the ongoing experiences which blend together, creating the trail. Each step gives a glimpse of what is to come, without allowing me to see the end result. It is exciting. I have a home base that is mine, that gives me a place to rest. This is it. This is where my heart is, no matter where I journey...................

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Missing Dad

I miss my dad. More than I can tell you. This is my seventh Father's Day without him.



My dad was far from perfect, but he tried, and I believe he always did his best. Doing less than best wouldn't have been acceptable for him. Some have measured him by some standard and found him lacking. I tried to measure him by his own standard, how he lived up to his own expectations. And I found fault with him on many occasions, mostly when I was a teenager with attitude, but also in later years.


















No, he wasn't perfect. He was envious of other people and their successes that surpassed his own. He felt he was a misfit, the "black sheep" of his family, not quite measuring up to his siblings. And he hated that the life he was able to give my mom wasn't as good as he wanted it to be. But the thing is, he was the best that he could be, exactly what we each should strive for.





Dad and Mom with all their kids.










We certainly had our differences. Or our likenesses, perhaps. We butted heads a lot, both of us determined to be "right." My mother once told me that my dad and I were too much alike, strong-willed, hard-headed; one of us needed to give up the will to always win. She said she had tried for over 25 years to get him to change, but there was still hope for me. I did listen to her. I backed down a little, not admitting that I was wrong, of course, but allowing that there might be two views of what was right. It helped me to see the gentle, caring man that he was.



He's the one who bounced me on his foot, "ride 'em cowboy" style when I wore my red and white cowgirl outfit.




That's Dad holding me.





He was more relaxed than Mom about my childhood, a natural thing, I suppose. He was comfortable watching my antics on the pogo stick, the jumping shoes (springs on the bottom), the skating and biking. He encouraged me to do more while Mom gave him deadly looks.

He's the one who taught me how to change the oil and the tires of my car. He wanted me to never be stranded and have to rely on a stranger in the desert spaces where we lived.

When Mom gasped on learning about my drag racing my Volkswagen, Dad laughed and asked me if I won. I did against other VWs; bigger cars spotted me various distances and usually beat me. Dad was proud that I held my own with "the boys."





Dad with my cousin, Mom and my dad's baby sister.










He invited me to build a stereo with him. I don't remember what useful part I did, but I loved that he showed me how to use the soldering iron and to read the instructions (which he never did!).

He "hired" me to help him paint on a job one summer. I wasn't so crazy about the work, it was hot and I got dirty (duh!), but I loved that he trusted me to be part of it. And I've remembered many of the trick and tips he taught me.

He always told me "well done," in some manner. Sometimes I didn't "hear" it at the time, but I don't remember ever feeling like a failure in his eyes. Sometimes I know he was disappointed in my choices, but he never made me feel that I was a disappointment.






Dad, on the right with his brother.










He taught me to drive, beginning at age eleven. He took me for my driving test, realizing on the way there that I hadn't learned to parallel park. We had a quick lesson, and I passed it, all of it in flying colors. Soon after that he taught me to drive a stick shift. Never once did he express being frustrated with me, even on the 110th time I killed the engine in his nice new truck.

He made me "get back in the saddle" on many occasions. I learned that when something happens, you have to "slay the dragon" before moving on. Otherwise, the dragon keeps breathing fire down your neck for the rest of your journey.

He was my Daddy, and he was big in my eyes, right to the very end when his physical size had dwindled to being tiny in comparison to his robust height as a younger man.

I miss my dad.








This is for you, Daddy. I love you.


















~~~If your dad is still around, enjoy it now.
Go see him or at least call him on Sunday.
Heck, call him more often than you have time for in your busy schedule.
You don't know how much you'll miss him.~~~

18 comments:

  1. What a loving tribute to your dad.

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  2. Lovely, Lovely, Lovely Lyn.
    I love my Daddy with all of my heart and see him at least once a week (Mom too). Believe me I am grateful for them!

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  3. He was the perfect Grandad. Larger than life, fierce in his loyalty, and protective of his own. I believed he could do anything that was worth doing, and knew everything worth knowing. He passed on his need for perfection to my mother. (I obviously think it is overated) Always enjoying a good laugh. He was extremely successful in my eyes and made me feel that way too. He was larger than life, John Wayne had nuthin' on him.

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  4. Daisy - Thank you.

    Patti - Good for you. Soak up every moment of the time with him/them.

    Anon - I'm so glad the three of you had that special kind of relationship with him and Mother. I'm not sure which of of you this is, de neese or de nefu, but you completed my description of him so very well. He was a special gentleman, wasn't he? And, yes, John Wayne would have stood aside for my father.

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  5. What a beautiful post. I loved seeing the pics of your Dad. I think my favorite is the one where he is holding you has a baby.

    It's great that you have such wonderful memories of your Dad.

    Will be thinking of you this weekend....

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  6. Aw, Lyn. How lucky you were to have him. I'm sorry it hurts now. But at least you had him.

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  7. What a very sweet tribute. Big hugs to you as you face another Father's Day without him.

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  8. Caroline - Thanks. Dad was a special person, and this view is shared by others, as you can see from the comment from anonymous.

    Jenn - Indeed, I was lucky. The last cycle of life isn't easy on any of us.

    Casey - Thanks. It's not easy, but how much richer my life is because he was here. You understand that. Hugs back to you, too.

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  9. Annie - Thank you.

    Gold - Thanks, so much.

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  10. wow. my dad was mostly awful to my mom as he got older and that pissed me off so much. i remember yelling at my mom that i wasn't going to take care of him after she died because he didn't deserve it after treating us all so badly. that broke her heart and now mine when i think of it. my dad ended up dying 9 months before my mom and even knowing all i do about him, i am absolutely stunned at how the grief overtakes me at times. what a lesson to learn...

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  11. Traci -Yeah, wow. I had a lot of negative emotions about my late husband, and while I got past most of that during his last weeks, I still have waves of anger toward him or waves of grief periodically. Yep, I understand what you're saying.

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  12. That was great.. It's so wonderful that you had so many special times with your Dad..

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  13. Beautiful beyond words. Very touching and loving tribute to your dad.

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  14. Pepper - Thank you. I wish every person could have the kind of father-memories I do.

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  15. Thank you for sharing, these old photos are truly wonderful!

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  16. Sandra - My pleasure is to share. Thanks for the visit.

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If you have something to say about it, just stick out your thumb, and I'll slow down so you can hop aboard! But hang on, 'cause I'm movin' on down the road!!! No time to waste!!!