Happy Birthday Dad, Memories are all we have

Dad’s 61st birthday is today and the memories are surrounding me, tugging at my foggy brain and the hands of time. One memory of my Dad that I hold on to is of him and me as a child, sitting in church, swinging my feet from the folding chair and listening to the hum of pastor’s sermon, I would often be holding Dad’s hand. I was a fidgety child and always needed something to keep my attention. It would seem like hours, sometimes I would pretend Dad’s fingers were piano keys and press his knuckles down to silent tunes in my head, or look at the lines and creases of his fingers and palm. This memory always comes with this song, Daddy’s Hands. I don’t know why I associate the two, they just seem to fit together, the way a small child’s hand fits into that of her Daddy’s.

I don’t think I completely understood how much I relied and depended on him until he was no longer there. Isn’t that the way of things! Dad seemed to know just about everything and anything! Of course, that’s something you don’t want to admit about your parent until you’re a grown up yourself :) It was wonderful knowing that if I needed anything or wanted to know how to do something that Dad would surely know what to say.

Dad spent most of his life with some illness or anther – cancer, diabetes – but he never seemed to let it get him down. He was always on the go, always planning things, doing something, or getting someone else to physically do it if he couldn’t, and most of the time I was going with him. Let me tell you, my Dad was a TALKER! I have many memories of places where dad would just talk and talk and talk and I would wait and wait and wait! lol. You didn’t dare tug his sleeve or whine and ask when you were leaving because that would only make him talk longer. Nope, you just waited! (and waited!)

As an entrepreneur, dad had many outlets, he owned and drove school vans for handicapped and troubled children for many years and had a thriving business with the Amish community. We took trips all over with them and had some good times. I remember once when I was about 12 ,Dad and I had drove a family to a week long reunion in Michigan. I ended up staying with some of the Amish and Mennonite girls in a loft over the garage. We played volleyball & kick the can for hours on end! One afternoon a few of the girls decided to “dress” me up. With a my hair tucked into a bun under a crisp white bonnet and wearing a pretty white Mennonite dress that had pale pink & blue flowers on it, I was sent marching down to the front yard to find Dad. He didn’t even recognize me! Those girls all had a big laugh over that :) So did Dad, he had a wonderful laugh and a great sense of humor most of the time!

I love you Dad and miss you so much! This one’s for you.

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