daddy-o

this started as a response to my mom's blog post about the dads in her life (btw, in case i haven't told you this, i kind of love that my mom blogs. she's so hip. or something.) but it was getting too long, so i decided to move it here.

i remember my daddy crimping my hair. and not just like, a crimped piece here and there ... my whole head would be a crimped wonder!

when we saw those ads for the "fancy" hair doohickey things on tv that would flip your pony tail inside out, he was like, psh. i can do that. and he did. (it might have hurt a little, but beauty is pain, right?)

i remember him cutting my nails and tweezing slivers out of my feet. insisting that (after i climbed into the apple tree with the assistance of a step ladder and then couldn't actually reach the step ladder to get back down) *in a sing song voice* "if you can't get up, you can't get down, so don't get up at all." and making me figure it out. actually, in fairness, i think he helped me down the first two times and then he was like, nope. figure it out. lol.

i remember him wrestling in the front yard with me and the neighbor boy. that kid was totally jealous that my dad was cool enough (immature enough? :) ) to come out and play with us. he let us dress up in his army digs and use his face paint so we could hide in the trees and terrorize innocent pedestrians walking down our street. (maybe he didn't know exactly what we were using it for.) my favorite was getting lifted up to crawl on the ceiling through the house, only to end in my parents' room, getting dropped from the ceiling to the water bed. i miss that water bed. those were fun times.

i remember my daddy making us breakfast of graham crackers and milk. he also makes big breakfasts of pancakes and eggs and bacon and hashbrowns. he would invent meals. the rice, cream of mushroom soup and hamburger that we affectionately call goulash or slop. i love how he adds brown sugar to basically everything he makes. like, really. everything. if we ever think maybe something has gone bad or shouldn't have sat out all night, he'll be the first to try it and inevitably declares it "fine" ... stomach of steel.

i remember when he came out and saved me when i broke my arm rollerblading. i knew it would be okay because he said it would.

the first time i really remember seeing him cry. when we had to put daisy to sleep. i don't think it was so much about the dog as it was about seeing all of us completely broken down.

i remember when he taught me how to change a tire in preparation for a post high school road trip to california. and when he loaded up in the car and drove almost five hours practically to the state line to rescue us when my car broke down on that road trip. even though his own temperamental vehicle ended up needing a repair on the way down too.

he taught me to change my oil, but still changes it for me since i can't seem to retain that information.

i remember when he taught me to drive at the tender age of what ... 11? 12? although that got shut down once my mom found out ...

he pulled my teeth when i was too afraid to pull them myself. never seemed mad when i woke him up in the middle of the night because i'd had a bad dream. doesn't judge me when i blatantly make the wrong decision.

he taught me how to crab and how to build a fire and how to have no fear.

when all of my friends bailed on me when i was moving, he hooked up his trailer and came to my apartment at 10:00 at night to load up all the big stuff ... bookshelves, bed, dining room table ... even though he had to get up for work at 4:oo the next morning.

he trusted me with riding his motorcycle before i really knew what i was doing, and didn't even give me a hard time for laying it down. twice. i honestly thought he'd be more concerned about the bike, but he saw my foot and knee and hands bleeding and didn't seem mad at all.

i can't even recount the number of times my car has broken down and he's come to save me. all without the slightest "i told you so" attitude. weellll ... maybe the slightest ...

i know i'm leaving things out. it's hard to get it all in one place. and in all fairness, my mom was involved in a lot of these too. but this is for dad's day.

thank you daddy. thank you for being my daddy and being the best one there is.

i love you.

i miss you.

be safe.

life's too short

last sunday, a friend and i attended a party at our mutual friend’s house. it was a small get together, just her husband, a few of her friends from church, her mom and sister, a long time family friend. some people had children and brought them and they played outside with our friends’ daughter. her husband used to be a chef so he had prepared some fancy little sandwiches for our party. he tried to make sure everyone ate plenty, warning them that if they didn’t they’d have to take some home with them for later. he pulled the nozzle hose from the sink and showed us how he’d positioned their daughters’ swing outside in perfect range for him to spray them through the kitchen window screen. he kissed his wife and said how lucky he was to have her, told her mom they needed a picture of her and her husband to add to their mantle. he waved goodbye to us as we left and thanked us for coming.

last night the friend i went to the party with tried to visit our friend at her place of work, but she wasn’t there. my friend was informed that they weren’t sure when she’d be back because her husband had died. i saw him sunday. on wednesday he was gone.

as shattering as that felt, we then found out that he committed suicide. the original story was that she came home from work to find him. the true story that she told us: he told her he was tired of being in pain (he had a back problem that made his feet hurt and go numb i guess) but then he took his nightly medication and headed to the bedroom. she heard what she thought was maybe the television remote control smashing against the bedroom wall and went in to find that it had actually been a gunshot. their nine year old daughter, i’m assuming, was in the other room.
i was told by a friend that when someone dies, maybe someone you don’t know terribly well, an acquaintance possibly, it’s hard to accept. say they die in a tragic car accident, it hurts and it’s difficult to get past. but for some reason, if they commit suicide, it just feels so much heavier. it’s so much harder to wrap your head around. i think she’s right. i started off being terribly sad about it all. what a waste. how tragic. but now i’ve really more moved on to anger. i can’t seem to grasp how anyone could be so selfish and cowardly. maybe that’s a little harsh. but really, if you’re going to do something like that, couldn’t you have the decency and consideration for your wife to not do it while she’s within feet of you? couldn’t you have the foresight to do whatever you could to preserve your little daughters innocence and mental well-being? couldn’t you think about the fact that your wife, and most likely your daughter as well, will blame themselves and ask why didn’t they do something differently? if only this, this and this … maybe they could have prevented this all?

i know there’s a reason for everything. even things that i think are horrible, i know God has a purpose for all that He does. but i can’t help but think how unfair it is that now my friend has to raise her daughter alone. or that her daughter has to grow up without her dad. without her dad to teach her how to drive a stick shift or walk her down the aisle when she gets married. i know that there’s a reason. but that doesn’t make it any easier.