Thanks for the memories, Dad
Father's Day this year is different. Instead of being 2,800 miles away, I'm here to quietly celebrate the day with you in your home. You'll be 88 this September and though your health and memories of current events are failing somewhat, I'm happy that memories of the olden days are still strong in your mind.
Speaking of memories, I have some, too.
-- I remember when Mike and I used to sit on your knees late at night, as you made up stories
about "old Mr. Dobson" who lived across the lake. "Sharoni Bologna" wasn't born yet.
-- I remember "helping" you when you worked on your boat where we lived on Perkins lane. I made pretend "fresh peach pot pie" and had to use the intercom to ask Mom about the recipe. First you need a fresh bowl, and a fresh knife... (Oh, yes, and some fresh peaches!)
-- I remember the large brick barbeque you made down by our dock on 55th NE.
-- I remember after the divorce when I was a child, saving money to buy you a little present, but not being big enough to get to the post office on my own to mail it to you.
-- I remember water-skiing on Lake Washington and ferry trips to Orcas.
-- I remember your taking us to Disney Land, and Banff and Lake Louise.
-- I remember your taking us target practicing somewhere near Yakima.
-- I remember the trip around the Olympic peninsula, and my catching the two guys siphoning gas out of our car.
-- I remember our family croquet games, and Mike diving off the roof of the tea house into the pool.
-- I remember hikes around hidden lake and up Mt. Constitution.
-- I remember your taking my girls for rides on your mini-bike, and the time you drove it in the front door of the house and up the hallway, out through the laundry room. If WE your mere children did that, we would have been shot!
-- I remember building the doll house under your tutelage for my daughters. By the way, we're going to need to make one for my granddaughter now.
-- I remember how you used to drop "old Greta old girl" off at my house when Blanche was away so you could do your hospital rounds.
-- I remember your fixing the cushions by your bedside when I was little and had the mumps. This was so I could sleep there under your care.
--I remember having the flu at the house in Medina, and hearing you saying "Gee, I wish I could have this darn flu instead of you."
NOW OUR ROLES ARE REVERSED. I see your health challenges and wish things could be better for you. I am arranging pillows and trying to make you comfortable. Some of our days include trips to the cardiologist, the neurologist or the audiologist. But it is really fun to stop at Boehm's for chocolate turtles on our way to Remlinger Farms and "Jake Road."
WHAT I LOVE BEST ARE THE STORIES YOU CAN SHARE NOW. While your body may be getting a little weaker, your voice is still there. Taking our short drives each afternoon are a joy -- it’s a delight to sing with you and Blanche, and to go over various memories of days gone by.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY DAD. I love you.