I’m not normally an overly sentimental guy, but I would like to break a bit from that tradition and share a little about my dad. Some of you may or may not know that my dad is currently having significant trouble with his health. To cut to the end in order to avoid any suspense, he is on the road to recovery, but at this point we are not overly certain when he will make a full recovery.
In brief, my dad has struggled with Chrones for longer then I have been alive and this has resulted in a recent fight against cancer that has put him in the hospital for the past couple of weeks. I spent about 8 days with him a few weeks ago and it really prompted me to remember in varying degrees of detail quite a few memories of my dad that I felt would be good to put to good use to share with others. While I could go on about all of the current trials that my dad is going through, I just think there is enough concentration on that at the moment so I would like to create a diversion by relating some of the happiest times in my life.
My dad worked a lot as I was growing up so the time that I was able to spend with him was really a big deal. What made it a bigger deal is that my dad was never short on his willingness to purchase candy, junk food, or just about anything that I requested from him within reason. Saturday mornings were sometimes filled with pancakes and cartoons, while others were spend hacking away at the local par 3 golf course. Now that I have my own job complete with my own kids, I have come to understand the equal sacrifice and desire that comes with these Saturday morning activities. During the summer, this activity was almost exclusively replaced with fishing. These activities were all activities that my dad loved (and still loves) so he was very interested in making sure that my brother and I fell equally in love with them. While I’m certain that at least a part of the motivation for my dad was to enjoy himself with these activities, I’m also certain that he was hoping that Justin and I would grow up to have similar interest and therefore ensure future times spent together. What I’m also certain of is that I was equal parts interested in spending time with my dad as I was consuming the candy that always accompanied our outings.
Below are a collection of some of my favorite stories, that would often be retold at a card game, or a round a camp fire with some of our closest friends during my rearing years. Some of you will know bits and pieces of these, but they always make me laugh so hopefully you’ll enjoy them just as much as I do.
Golf: 1
So as I mentioned above, when we were in Livonia my Dad used to take Justin and I up to the local par 3 golf course. The reasons were quite simple in that the fee was reasonable, the distance manageable, and the time required short enough that everyone was ensured to have a good time. Prior to hitting the links we always had breakfast at the Golden Arches that shared the same parking lot. I was at an age where I wanted to help with absolutely everything so I was always asking my dad (sometimes a little to late) if I could do this or try my hand at that, etc. This one morning we had finished our breakfast, pulled the clubs out of the trunk and we were walking up to the course, while my dad was coaching me to not slam the trunk so hard, and to always ensure that everything was out of the way before shutting the trunk as I had almost injured my brother on this most recent attempt. My dad starts looking around for his coffee, and we realize that we don’t have it so turn back to the car believing that it had been left on the ground. We look around the car for the longest time and eventually see the coffee trails dripping down the driver side read quarter panel of the car. Turns out that my dad had put his coffee in the little part of the trunk that is exposed when it is open for “safe keeping” while we got our clubs out. Now my dad’s trunk has always been a tale of legends, but while I don’t remember the details, there were some very important paper work or equipment in there that day and the coffee had just ruined it. The sequence of events was so comical at the time that we could only laugh about it, but I was certain that my dad was not looking forward to the explanation that he had to provide on Monday.
Golf: 2
Now jump forward to when I am likely about 15. This is when I am now allowed to drive the golf cart and we have graduated to the real golf course. The following two events take place in the matter of a two holes.
First we are driving down the middle of a treeless fair way looking for a ball that my dad or I had hit. We were not really paying attention and drove past it, but my dad caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye and pointed it out to me. It was on my left and I was driving. Normally when driving anything it is a good idea to slow down a bit before making a 90 degree turn, but I elected to ignore this common sense. Since he was in the passenger seat, and I was turning left, I was suddenly the only person in the cart, and I got to see my dad tumble two or three times before finally coming to a stop. It was the most hilarious thing I had ever seen my dad do and I just couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t think it was that funny and I didn’t get to drive the cart the rest of the day.
So on the next hole, now with my dad in the drivers seat, we pull up to the tee box to wait for the group ahead of us to complete the par 3. I get out my club to begin practice swinging and forget to measure the appropriate amount of space required between me and the cart. So on the first swing, I whack my dad pretty hard right on the left knee cap. He gets up and he is literally “hopping” mad. Of course, I once again can’t stop laughing and explain that this wouldn’t have happened if he would have let me keep driving the golf cart.
My dad has the patience of a saint, and so he put me in my place and we completed the round without future incident, but Justin and I will never forget those two holes of golf.
Fishing: 1
We had only recently acquired a boat that was new to us but was quite old in reality, and I was about 12 or so. It was a nice upgrade from the fishing boat that we had for the previous few summers, and as I recall, we were going out fishing for the first time. It was still early in the morning and we had just set anchor to drop our lines in the water. Out of nowhere this speed boat comes racing past us which was really unnecessary as the rest of the lake was available and it was clear that we were sitting still fishing. I honestly didn’t notice as I was polishing off a donut, but my dad stands up and yells “Buddy, your an Ass!”. Now I was completely shocked, I had never really heard any swearing at that point and definitely not from my dad. My dad sits down and he can see the look on all four of our faces (our friends Steve and Laura were with us) that we were clearly surprised, and so he says “well, he was was!”. We couldn’t help it and we all burst out laughing. The joke didn’t get old as we repeated it over and over again to my dads embarrassment even after the fishing trip was done until finally the moms put an end to it later in the week. We still bring this up again from time to time when a close enough situation repeats itself. We always laugh so hard when it does.
Fishing: 2
If you are ever around my family and you hear the phrase “it’s only misting” the origin is from an ill fated fishing trip from my youth. I don’t really recall how old I was at the time, but what I do remember is that we had just received a tip about a good fishing spot from a guy at the bait shop. The problem was that it was on the other side of the lake from where we camped. So we had gotten up early and headed out there. I was young so I’m sure it was only about 20 minutes, but it felt like an eternity to me. Well we finally get out there and get our lines in the water, when it begins to drizzle. Now my dad was really excited about this fishing spot so he told us kids that it was only misting and that we could fish through it. Well the drizzle only lasted a few minutes before the heavens opened up and a full on rainstorm developed. My dad was so disappointed, and he looked up and told the four of us that it would blow over soon, and “it’s only misting”. It was just to hilarious as we were all completely drenched and running for cover. My dad still did try and fish a bit, but the rest of us kids hid under anything we could find. Finally my dad gave up and we pulled the anchor and started the long trip back to the camp ground. The whole time my friend Steve kept reminding my dad that it was “only misting” has he squinted to see where he was going in the downpour.
This note has become much longer then I anticipated, but I hope that you have enjoyed the stories. My dad is extremely special to me, and the little things in life tend to remind me of him. I hope that you have someone in your life that is this special to you.