Happy Father's Day

Dear Daddy,

You are the best Daddy in the world. You give me toady scrubs whenever I stand over top of your foot. You let me do rub ups all over the back seat of your truck leaving a trail of my ginger hair all over your seat. And, you let me do it without complaining about the mess I’m making, which we all know means you must really love me. I know that ‘cuz you’re always complaining about Mom’s hair being EVERY WHERE!

You spend thousands...

and thousands of dollars on my vet bills just to keep me going.

You take me on great trips. See, here I am at the Grand Canyon.

And at the Joshua Tree National Forest with cooky Grandma...

And here I am at Disneyland!!! I'm on the right with Mom!

You take me fishing on the boat! Ahhhh...I love this picture of us. We are both at peace on the water.

You soak me down when it’s really hot outside and I’m roasting. (Mom says you are just FOX-Y in this picture, not a SF.)

You love to snuggle with me on the couch. (I think you have your hand down your pants in this picture but Mom was nice enough to crop it out for public consumption.)

I know I’m a pain in the ass sometimes...alright, all of the time, but despite that, you love me, warts and all. You give me face rubs like no other. You let me lick your legs and feet when you come back from a run even though it tickles. You play with me like no one else can. Mom tries, but she sucks at playing. She’s only good for snuggles in the nest. You take me to the beach where I get to run and chase the birdies and you treat me like I’m a big boy.

You laugh when I walk across your freshly planted veggie garden even though I know you’re screaming inside.

When I first came to your house, Rookie told me that I was in for a good life because you were the best Daddy ever. And you know what? He was right. He came back to see me in my sleep last night, and he told me to tell you that he misses you like craaaaazy and that no Dad compares to you. He says THANKS for a fantabulous life.

You always put that extra little something in my bowl at supper time, even if the spoon is actually empty, it always seems to taste better. I think there’s love in that spoon. Don’t you?

So for all that Daddy, I ruvs you, and Rookie does too. Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

Licks and Wig-Wags, Ernie.

Now my turn.....

Good Lord, Ernie. How do I follow that? Since my dear old Dad is facing a health crisis right now, thoughts of him seem to be consuming me as of late. The past little while, I keep having these flashbacks of times I spent with my Dad as a child. Special moments that bring a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart.

I remember driving to his company softball game in his big white convertible with the top down and the wind blowing my hair everywhere. He would always stop on the way home at a little store on Rupert Street and buy us each a Fresca. To this day, every time I have one, those memories come flooding back. I remember him taking the time to play tennis with me or throwing the softball around, even though I wasn’t very good, but it was just US time.

I can remember clearly, the two of us sitting alone together in the living room, playing our guitars and singing some old classics – House of the Rising Sun, Me and Bobby McGee, both come to mind, but there were many.

I have fond memories of him taking me fishing. At first he’d bait my hook until I got the hang of it. I wasn’t sure who was more excited when I got one on (and I always did, right Dad?), him or me? I’m not sure he enjoyed it all that much, but I loved it and still do. (When I discovered the SF was a passionate fisherman, I knew I’d found the man for me. What is it that they say? We women marry our fathers? Well, in many instances, I certainly have.)

I remember getting up at the crack of dawn to go play golf, just the two of us. As much as I complained about missing out on play time with my friends, I also loved those moments together. I loved how proud you were of me when I made a good shot or chip. I remember how you would always buy me a Wonderbar at the Pro Shop and that I’d try as hard as I could to keep up on the course so that we weren’t holding anyone up behind us. Yes, we were all about great golf etiquette. I felt like I was running the whole time and would be so exhausted by the time we would finish the front nine, that quite often I’d head to the truck and sleep while you played the back nine. (Would anyone do that now? Leave their kid in the vehicle by themselves? Times were so much different then, weren’t they?)

I remember driving in the station wagon, usually to camp, singing along to our Buddy Holly and Dolly Parton eight tracks. Yes, I said eight track! That’s how long ago it was.

Do you remember going to “The Pop Shoppe” and loading up on OUR favourites to take to camp? Cream Soda, Black Cherry, Lemon Lime. It was a little trip we’d take together. (We actually have a Pop Shoppe here and the sight of it brought that one back to me.)

I remember when I worked for the same company as you and after being there a while, I got to know all of the girls there, and they would all tell me how you would go on and on about me and my trivial accomplishments in life and I don’t know why, but I was so surprised. For a man of few words to be singing his daughters praises to his co-workers - well, let’s just say that I felt proud that you felt proud.

It’s such a shame that little girls grow up and become consumed with school, and friends, and the other men in our lives and that we leave our fathers behind. How hurt you must feel? But Dad, all of those moments were not lost on me, and the memories will be with me forever. It was at those times that I became the person that I am today and for that, I thank you.

Happy Father’s Day.

p.s.....Let me finish by saying, it is shameful that I do not have more pictures of the two of us together. It's embarrassing that I have more pictures of my dog than I do of us together. This crazy lady keeps standing in between us.