This post is dedicated totally to the memory of my dad..
Being Father's Day and all, despite the festivities at church and surrounding my own husband, awesome Dad of 8 that he is, I needed to take a few quiet minutes and contemplate the richness that was my dad...And maybe I can have a few moments of private, quiet tears, if you don't mind...Thanks.
Dad was one of the old breed of men that could do anything. He knew everything and could make anything run. He knew the best voices for all the characters in Uncle WIggly and he knew how to build a pint size china cabinet ( I still have it..bright red..)He built a playhouse that was the envy of the other kids on the block. He painted my room pink..he made my first child a cradle that is so beautiful he was offered 500.00 for it when he stopped for gas on the way to bringing it to my house..and that was 26 years ago. He taught me all the important stuff..how to swim..how to bait a hook, how to spit on the worm before you cast into the water with just the right flick of the writst. He taught me how to whistle, how to ride a horse, how to drive and how to be secure. He told me I was the most gorgeous creature on earth and the reason I did not get dates was because boys were scared of me.
He taught me my multiplication tables, and how to measure area..he had much beter control over me than my mom ever did but I only remember him spanking me one time..we both cried.
Working on the house reminds me of him because he was always building, fixing, or making..He would have loved this house with all the potential it has..He would have runhis hands over the heart pine floors..looked carefully over the layout of the house...he would have listened to the house's history and intuitively known what to do and how to accomplish it.
So when I am nailing or painting or something I feel close to him. I talk to him in my mind sometimes, trying to remember bits of information he gave me, how to toenail into a stud, how to use danish oil, when to use the amber shellac..I have his old tools, the primitive things that were high tech in 1930...hand augers, hand saws, hammers of various sorts...
This house connects me to my dad even though he never set foot in it. I work with painstaking care, not just because it is important to me to do a job well but because I would want him to be proud of the work..
I miss him so much. My life is full, I have a fantastic husband, 8 wonderful kids, a son in law that I cherish, 2 grandkids that I adore...but there will always be a hole in my heart that i shaped like dad.
If your dad is still alive then spend all the time with him you can..even if he is cranky and irritating and hard to deal with...once he is gone..he will be gone..and you will never be loved in quite that way again.
Thanks for letting me have this little cry..I needed it today.