My Dad

Father's Day is coming up in a few days. Poor dads don't get enought credit most of the time. Sometimes we would like to yell and scream at them, but all in all they are just guys being guys.

This generation of dads are more "hands on" than the ones of my generation. My dad worked so hard from the time he returned from WWII until his death in the 1990's.

I had so much respect for his work ethic.

Daddy had a great sense of humor. I think he passed some of that to me and then to Queen B.

He loved to laugh and to play jokes on people.

Once, he had my nephew with him at McDonald's drive-thru and ordered a drink. The peel-off tab on the side of the cup had a "coupon" for an order of french fries. Dad tried to redeem the coupon on the spot but the drive-up lady was adamant that it be redeemed on his next trip.

So...... Daddy just drove around the building , pulled up to the window and said, "Lady, this is my next trip".

He got his fries.

Dad served on a Board of Directors that required him to travel alot for a few years. My Mom always went with him and took care of the details.

This one time, Mom was unable to go so he went on alone. He checked into the hotel, ordered room service, ate and got ready to put the tray back out in the hall.

Well, he opened the door, pushed out the tray, the door bumped him on the behind and,

POP.

He was out in the hall.

Without a key.

In his underwear.

My daddy.

In a hotel.

With lots of people.

In a city.

He saw a maid cart down the hall so he headed for that to get help. The maid thought he was a perv so she was pulling the cart one way and he was pulling the other (to protect what little modesty he had left). He did get help and get back into his room.

Now when we go to a hotel we always warn, "watch out for those Papa doors."

We all had "Papa" stories, and those were very eloquently told at his funeral by a US Senator and Pop Dryer(Shannon's dad at Rocks in my Dryer). It was a time of celebration of a life that was lived to the fullest.

I just hated giving Daddy up so soon. I wasn't ready for him to leave. I didn't have enough advice yet. I wasn't grown up enough to be without my dad.

God had other plans so we had to let him go. God never takes away without replacing. A few weeks after the funeral, The Princess was born. God's gift. To me. To heal my heart.

That calendar year we had two more births in our family. Two more babies to love and cuddle.

More healing.

That's been 10 years ago. We all miss him greatly but he left a legacy in all of us. Some of us have his hands, some his blue eyes, some his build and all his heart.

Thanks, Dad, for being mine for 45 years. I love you.....

He would get a kick out of the whole blogging Beachy Mimi thing....