I Remember Daddy

Today I put aside my ususal type of writing to honor my father on this Father's Day.

My daddy could scare the life out of me because I knew he had a temper that came loose now and then and I didn't want to be on the receiving end but as I recall he didn't lay a hand on me that I can remember.

I do remember his cool hand on my fevered brow when I was sick and I remember his concern that I be made well again.

I remember his kissing the top of my head before he set off to work the long hours at the bakery when I was a young child.

I remember when I was 13 how when mama was about to order some clothes from Sears for me to wear the new school season, Daddy told her to pick more grown-up looking clothes because I was growing up.

I remember carrying the croaker sack for Daddy when he went net fishing on the beach and down off the bridge at Crescent Beach sometimes. One cannot go fishing at will when one wants to anymore. I am glad that Daddy was able to do that before laws of prohibition came about.

I remember my wedding and how proud Daddy was and how happy he was to be able to throw a pretty good reception even though he hadn't much money. I remember my gown was a bit too long and I had to whisper as we walked the long Cathedral aisle to please slow down a tad more so I wouldn't fall flat on my face tripping on my gown.

Daddy was full of stories about my babyhood too. How during the war when gas was expensive for him and scarce, he and Mama had to take me for a ride to get me to sleep. I was a jumpy and fretful baby it appears. He told me about older women who wanted to hold me or get too close when they had a cold or something and Daddy would try to protect me from getting their germs. He was the one who got up at night and fed the bottle and rocked me back to sleep so Mama could get some rest and then he would head off for a long hard day at work.

When I was three, he was lost somewhere in Germany for a while. My mother was so upset. We received a record that Daddy recorded and Mama played it and wept and I keep asking where my daddy was and when was he coming home. He did come home to us.

These are some of the good memories I carry of my father. Today I weep as I remember him and the horrible years he endured after Mama died. Mama was the light of his life and that light seemed to go out when she died. He had years to go before he passed and had three other wives but he was never the same.

I remember today the love he gave me and it completely erases from my memory any times when things between us were painful or challenging.