Happy Father’s Day all! I lost my Dad twelve years ago. Years of smoking did enough damage, even though he had stopped a dozen years before. Ironically, one of his best lessons was not to smoke, as any teen will tell you how could anyone do something that tastes that bad after they sneak a try?
When I think of my Dad, I think of how he loved his grandchildren. He would be the comforter and entertainer to allow us parents to have some needed time. He would invariably tend to children after a meal to let others linger over conversation.
I think of his dutiful pitching in my batting practice. He would throw a bucketful of baseballs and then we would collect them and he would throw them again. Doing that after working all day is a way he showed his devotion to his children.
I think of his company having potluck lunches at work. Dad would smoke a ham and turkey. He would get up during the night to check on the smoking process to keep the meat tender. As I recall, they would do this three or four times a year.
I think of his marvelous roast beef he grilled and terrific BBQ chicken. He would laugh when we told him the chicken did not have any wings. The chef would be sampling said wings outside before he brought the chicken in.
I think of him loving my mother. We kids would sheepishly hide our faces as they hugged and kissed in front of us. I remember the story of how my Dad fell into my Mom’s lap chasing a loose basketball when she arrived late to the college team’s game. She also accidentally pushed him in a pond at college when the Women’s Dean approached.
My Dad was a good man. He was not perfect and had a few demons in smoking and alcohol, but I remember him well. Happy Father’s Day, Dad.