A Remembrance

I have posted here about my Dad, but I just had a few more things to say.

Eleven years ago, today, he went to be with the Lord after having open-heart surgery.
Actually, he made it through the surgery but never could wake up. It was a heart-breaking time for our family.

Eleven years later, we have a different abnormal normal dysfunctionality, but we are still a family. A couple of members are, umm , gone but I won't get in to that.

Daddy was one of the funniest persons I have ever known. Very quick wit. Loved to laugh. I got that from him, as did Queen B and The Princess.

Another little trait he passed to us was STUBBORNESS. I know, I know. Hard to believe, but it is true.

I have seen Daddy argue with stoplights, maps, road signs and if he had had a GPS back in 1997, there would have been a cuss-fight with the direction woman. We call her Kathleen because she has a smoky,sexy voice like Kathleen Turner. OKAY, so you are too young to remember Kathleen Turner. Just go with me here.

Especially since our Kathleen doesn't always work perfectly and we end up at a Walgreens where there is supposed to be a car dealership. Another story for another day. Oh, the RAGE. It would have been hysterical.

Daddy was a common man. Self-educated by experience and hard work. I have seen few people with the work ethic he possessed. Most of those were WWII veterans.

I was so homesick when I first went to college, I called home EVERY MORNING begging to come home. Daddy would get on the phone and tell me the story about him going off to war and how seasick and homesick he got on the way to Europe and the two years he was basically out of contact with family. I listened and stayed.

As I became a parent, I realized that although the story was basically true, it had the element of "I walked 5 miles in the snow to school...without shoes." You know the story. The story did the job and I guess that was the purpose.

He's sat on the truckbed and talked to people with no teeth, education or much of anything else, and he has also been in the Oval Office joking with a POTUS.

If you still have your dad, give him a big kiss today or call him on the phone "just because" and tell him you love him. Please do this for me because I'm not able to.
If your dad has already passed away, think of him with a smile today.

There's just nothing like a Daddy and a little girl, even if she's grown.

Escape, At Last

Chomp, chomp, chew, chew. Hi, Peeps! Beachy Mimi here, eating my words about the Propane Convention.

I actually had lots of (wine) fun.

The people there were so nice. Not a snob in the bunch. Just a group of people getting together to get the requirements out of the way and having a good time while doing so. No obnoxious drunks, either, which is unusual for most conventions that are not Christ-related.

The PROPANE STYLE SHOW was precious. The ladies LOVED it. It didn't matter that the styles were...different. Everyone had a big smile and there was tons of joking and laughter.
And wine...but we won't go there.

The talent show was a hoot. Lots of country/western singing and playing. Very good sports.
The highlight of the evening was the appearance of a 70 year old fake Elvis. TOO FUNNY.
The guy next to me said, "I believe he's better than the real Elvis!" Huh? What?

One very funny note to the weekend. As parents, the desire to protect and help our children never leaves us...apparently. All mothers want to make things all-better for their children whatever their age.

Enter the Parental Unit.

PU and a friend thought they would be really cute to "set me up" with a guy my age they thought was "nice". Oh, brother.

Obviously, PU has not done much of this "setting up" because she didn't realize there needs to be RESEARCH DONE.

Oh yeah, the guy doesn't know anything about it either. They think they will introduce us and
TA DA. Instant attraction.

So, at this dinner, PU casually says, "Beachy, I want to introduce you to Urkel."

She and her match-making buddy begin to look for Urkel in the crowd. After a few minutes, someone tells her, "Urkel left. His 22 year old girlfriend is having a baby."

Okay. That's just wrong on so many levels.

I gave the PU the "stare".

ME: "What are you up to?"

PU: "I just wanted you to meet Urkel. He's a nice boy."

Translation. Nice boy=man that says hello to an 85 year old and holds the door open for her.

ME: "That's up for debate."

PU: "Well, I think he's nice."

ME: "Did the whole part about the baby and 22 year old girlfriend just whiz on by?"

PU: "Well, I didn't know."

ME: "Did you think of maybe...CHECKING?"

PU: "No. He's never mentioned having a girlfriend."

ME: "Please, NO MORE HELP."

Now I remember why parents don't get to pick the spouse.

I Have Been Captured...

Captured, Mimi-napped, taken under duress, abducted, waylaid, shanghaied, forced, dragged, snatched, marched and otherwise taken against my will.

It is time for the GREAT PROPANE CONVENTION in OKC. It has nothing to do with me. It has nothing to do with the Parental Unit. Sibling and his wife do have to be here. They forced me to come with the Parental Unit.

I'm not laughing.

I insisted on my own room because Parental Unit keeps the heat on...I just couldn't take it.

It will be 4 days of hot, boring and miserable meetings.

They are having a fashion show. With models. Propane models. The Parental Unit is one of them. That's why she loves to come. To model. Parental Unit is 85.

Sibling's wife is going to model, too. She also loves it.

They tried to get me to participate. NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I couldn't have made myself any clearer. I. Will. Not. Model. At. Propane.Convention...Ever.

Maybe I will wake up and all this will have been a dream (nightmare).

I have never seen so many costume blingy jewels since the 80's. Big hair. LOTS of eyemakeup.

I have decended to hell.

At least Parental Unit left the crockpot at home.

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....