Remembering My Dad....

I just finished watching the movie, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close-a story about a very unique kid who loses his father in the 911 attacks. If you have ever lost a father, I don't recommend watching this movie. Not exactly the feel good movie of the year. However, a beautiful story with some amazing things to say.

During the movie at one point the mother and son are recollecting things about their husband/dad that they remember or miss so much. And I couldn't help thinking that I don't do this enough. For so long I tried to block out everything about my dad because it was too painful to remember. Where it is still incredibly painful, with time comes healing. And with healing comes strength, and through every ounce of gained strength I long to remember my dad once more.

My dad had funny phrases and sayings that were famous among his groups of friends, as well as my friends. Whenever someone says one of these familiar things--I instantly think of my dad. He was a musician to his core, and one of my favorite memories of him is every car ride together somewhere listening to him drumming on the steering wheel (he was also obsessed at looking in the rearview mirror and grooming himself! lol). After my mom left, he would take my sister and I to school every morning-and these are some of my favorite memories ever of us, the three musketeers. I remember his sense of humor-he was so witty and funny and I would pray at night to be like him in that way so that I could carry on funny and clever conversations with him. He told the world's FUNNIEST (yet cheesiest) jokes--like "two men walk into a bar, you think one of them would've seen it!" haha-he told me this one from the time I was 7 years old and by the time I was 11 I think I finally got it. He made every bad or sad situation funny--and I am a lot like him in this way. If there is tension or sadness somewhere I will do everything in my power to use humor to make things a little easier. This was my dad. During doctor's visits with me he would sit in the chair the doctor is very clearly supposed to be the only one sitting in, and like a child would spit his gum into the air and try to catch it. I found this hysterical, and by the time the doctor came in we would be laughing so hard and in tears! He shared the humor in odd things like me too. During funerals he would be cracking jokes and we would be laughing so hard we'd consider stepping out because we couldn't stop laughing! Once during communion at church, we were laughing so hard we shook our entire pew!! One day we were driving into town from home, and for absolutely no apparent reason at all we started 'invisibly killing' each other--it started out like typical things, gun or bow/arrow, but ended up by the end of the drive we were guessing what the other one was doing and it'd be something as outrageous as death by choking on a gummy worm or deadly bird pecking. (yes, repeating this all now seems a little morbid but hey it was funny at the time!). My dad was a servant, and would do anything for anybody if he had the means (and if he didn't, he would find the means). I remember from a very early age stopping to help strangers on the side of the road who were broken down or having a hard time. He spent his last weeks of life giving toys, clothes, and necessary living items to children in need at his school. Children he knew wouldn't be getting a visit from Santa Clause--I LOVE that the sorts of things that broke my daddy's heart are the same things that break mine too. He was teaching me to play guitar, and I loved it so much when we got to sit in his office and play and sing together. The blood of his instrument and his passion for music run deep in my soul and I love connecting to him in that way. My dad seemed fearless--he would do crazy things all of the time, and I am NOT like this in any way shape or form. But there is a small part in us all that wishes we were fearless and so I appreciate my dad always being this way. I love how my dad loved to show off my older sister and I-he would tell every person we were ever around "Man, don't I have some good lookin' kids?" My dad loved to coach-he would coach anything that walked and if he knew nothing about the sport he would learn and excel at coaching it and then start umpiring/refereeing it! He was competitive which is a trait I can appreciate although athletic wise I am definitely no competitor. Before I went out onto the ball field, each inning, I would get a pound on the forehead--which was softball talk for "I love You". I remember key lessons in life that he taught me....."Stay out of slippery places and you won't fall"--or before I would leave the house upon turning 16 he would always say "remember who you are"--well, at 16 who actually knows who they are. I didn't. But I knew who he wanted me to be, and to make him proud I stayed out of trouble. I hear him saying it to me these days except it sounds a lot less like my dad and more like my Father telling me. His philosophy on teaching or coaching was he would rather have a kid with no talent then a kid with a bad attitude-because you can teach/coach a kid to be talented but you can rarely fix a bad attitude. I love the memories of playing horse on our carport, or softball in our backyard. Especially in the summer time! My dad was sociable too, like me, and some of my favorite summer memories with him are the parties we would have in our backyard. We would literally be outside from the time we woke up to midnight or after--playing ball, swimming, doing a slip-n-slide, singing, doing karaoke--and every holiday or random summer night holds these sweet memories for me. Every now and then I can smell it in the air and it's like I am there once more. Every 4th of July my dad would tell us he was not going to spend tons of money on fireworks, but by the end of the night he would come home with hundreds of dollars worth--because he loved shooting and watching them as much as we did! I love how on Christmas, dad would wake us up with a video camera so that each second of the special day was captured--and when we got a little older, old enough to wake ourselves up, we would sit at the edge of the hall and yell across the house to see if it was ok for us to come out. And of course we would have to wait for dad to set the camera up, but it was worth it!  I love that my dad could find a way to quote Mash, Andy Griffith, Office Space, or Airplane at any given moment of any (and every) given day, and somehow it always made sense in context--when you grow up with such a clever parent, you become quite the clever kid. And when none of my friends understood me I know my dad and my older sister did, because we were one in the same.I love the special life-long friends my dad had---they remind me so much of him, it helps to know they are around, even though I don't get to see them as often as I would like. I LOVE when my dad would come into my room, and wake me up by putting on a jacket of mine and singing "Fat guy in a little coat!" HAHA--I can still see it today!! He did special and funny things like that all the time--once, he woke me up early so that I could listen to the new baby birds that had hatched (inside our attack) but nonetheless it was sweet because he wanted me to experience that. It made me sad when I would find out that my dad went to movies alone...it makes me sad imagining anyone I love doing things alone, but he always assured me that he needed the break or enjoyed the quiet. The first movie I remember finding out that he saw alone was Cheaper by the Dozen--so when I watch that movie I think of him. My dad introduced me to wrestling (or wrastlin' as I say) and never hesitated to pile drive me or put me in a figure four leglock-I LOVED when he would wrestle with us! I loved having things in common with him. My dad also introduced me to Van Halen, and every amazing guitar rif I ever hear makes me think of dad. Once in elementary school, he walked down my hallway and one of my friends told him he was the 'cool dad'--and he NEVER forgot about that. In fact, he LOVED being the 'cool dad'--and he was a pretty stinkin' cool dad. I have a picture hanging on my bathroom wall, and when I look into my mirror I see my dad--when I tilt my face like his in the picture, I look just like him. That may be the only time we resemble, I don't know....but every day I love seeing his face in mine.

I know there are a million more things I have forgotten to say, or maybe have forgotten altogether. But one day, I am sure I will remember. Then maybe one day, there will be another blog about those things too.

I don't know how many people actually read my blog...but if you do, and you were friends with or knew my dad--I would love to hear about things you remember about him too.

In Him,
Meg