For those of us who are missing our dads today...

I really miss my dad today. He's been gone for over 11 years now. He was a big bear of a man, always loving, always funny. He was a great dad. He was the mediator with us and my mom. HE made sure we got to experience the things other kids did, because my mom was completely insano protective, crazily so. When he died, it was the most gut wrenching thing I've ever experienced.
On father's day, we'd always get him a cake, Mom would make dinner, and we'd give him our gifts. No matter what we got him, he loved it. The whole family gravitated to our house for every holiday, including Father's day because he was such a pleasure to be around. He was always mindful of the well-being of those around him, always making sure your stomach was full and you had a drink in your hand. I miss that loud, contagious laugh.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. I miss you!

This post is for all of us who miss our dads today.
Tell us about your dad.
Duckie

I miss my Dad, too. He is still alive, but he's in Florida today...with his "other family." Life can be so complicated. At least I talked with him last night. He knew I'd call early, rather than take a chance on missing him, so he'd already opened the gift I sent him. We had a nice talk. I've learned, through the years, not to put off talking with loved ones.

:hug:

yes I miss him.....
He was a drummer, my Mom met him in a bar...
Then he was an electrician
He became a Presbyterian Minister and started
the drug abuse committee in our town....
We had the "hotline" phone in our house

He loved us....

and we loved him....

Thanks YRD for this thread...

:toast: Heres to our DADS!!!!

:hug:
I posted another story in the "GOOD MEMORIES OF DAD" thread...



lost

I lost my dad a few years ago, so I definitely understand how Father's Days can be hard.

Each Father's Day I want to remind people to enjoy their dads while they can, even if there are rifts (except of course in severe cases), because that opportunity won't be there forever.

Here's to your dad, my dad, and the other dads missed today.

:hug:

My dad died in 1996. Like you said, I felt like I was kicked in the gut when I got the news.

He was such a hard-working guy. Really, he sacrified so much for us to have all that we did. Neither he nor my mom graduated from HS, but all three of us kids earned master's degrees. He was so proud of us. I wish I had known him better, but he was always working, working.... He owned his own business, so he had to work hard.

He was a World War II hero and a great cook a wonderful grandfather, son, brother, and uncle. I miss him so much. I know he's looking down on us and trying to protect us even now.

So this is my first Fathers Day without him.
The man I called Daddy was actually my grandfather; the man who stepped in when my insanely abusive father
finally went away when I was 4. My mom and I lived with my grandparents for a few years until she got on her feet.

My dad was a director for the local news for 42 years. We had many interesting and intellectual family discussions at the dinner table when I was growing up.
He was with my grandmother for 51 years. They'd made a pact never to be apart for more than a day or two- he was offered jobs
in other countries covering the Olympics or The Royal Wedding but he never accepted because he preferred to be with her. They took care of more than 40 foster children.
They had 3 children and adopted a fourth- one of the foster children. She was born in 69 and had a horrible case of asthma. My grandparents
were told she would never be adopted so they did the only thing they could- they adopted her. He coached his first grandsons baseball team.
He did EVERYTHING for him family.

When I was about 13, I was at his home on vacation. (We'd moved when I was 11 so I spent every summer after that at my grandparents)
Fathers Day was coming up and I was really emotional about it for some reason. My grandfather noticed & asked what was wrong.
I started to cry and told him that it really bothered me that I'd never gotten to call anyone dad, and that I didn't have one.
He told me that he'd always considered me like a 4th daughter- I was the first grandchild and since we'd lived there we were bonded.
And then he told me that if I ever wanted to, I could call him dad.

I'm 33 now. And I called him dad for 20 years- because even though it wasn't biologically true, in my heart it was.
My dad did everything for me. He came with me to all of my father daughter functions. He bought me my first car.
He taught me how to paint. We went and got the Christmas tree every year. He taught me the value of a good days work.
He taught me how to be a good person. If it wasn't for my dad, my life would have been alot different.
My dad (along with my mom and grandmother) was the biggest influence in my life. I could never find the words to express to all of you how
much I loved him, or how much he meant to me.

Toward the end of his life, he'd started to get frailer. He had a health scare (the first in his entire life) a year and a half ago when he suddenly
got pneumonia and almost died. He was in the hospital for 4 days and it really scared him. He wasn't the same after that-
he couldn't drive anymore and it took a while to build his lung capacity back up.
We swapped traditional roles- he went from being the caregiver to the person I took care of.
In the end it was me, my mom and my moms youngest sister who took care of him. I know we were lucky- he never needed a wheelchair or a walker, he didn't have Alzheimer's,
he wasn't in pain. He was just a slower version of his normal self. He was sharp until the very end- a little slower, but still there. He voted up until the very end.
He hated GWB with a passion and was really heartsick that the business he'd devoted his professional life to was lying to our country to let that a-hole lead us to war.
He was a Proud WWII vet.

He died suddenly & with no warning. He was 86. My mom, her sister and I are all heartbroken without him.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss him. My biological father may be one of the worst people on earth, but god found a way to give me the best dad in the world.
I wouldn't have traded my dad for anything in the world- he was perfect.

There aren't many people in the world that nobody has something bad to say about them. I've never met anyone that didn't genuinely like my dad.
When he died we got calls and emails and flowers galore from people telling us that they had looked up to him, that he never raised his voice, that he
was a great co-worker, friend, uncle, brother in law... you name it.
We heard so many funny stories- it was great. The one thing that stood out was that 9 out of 10 people said the same thing- that he was one of the
most honorable, caring men they had ever met. All the things everyone said was just another reminder of what a great man my dad was.

I miss you so much daddy!!

Redstone

the pain is still raw for you

:hug: :hug:

I remember how that felt........
shit hun the "first year crap" is hard.....
we will be here when you need us.....


lost

I remember the absolute emotional agony of the first year after my grandmother (his wife) died.
It took a year for that to bank down enough for me to be able to really KNOW that she was gone.

This is a little different. I guess the main difference is, I knew she was dying for about a month before she went.
With my dad there was NO warning- just my mom showing up in my room on Good Friday (I was sleeping) saying "Dads dead dads dead dads dead- get up".

I'm thankful it was quick and (I hope) painless. All indicators are that he probably knew something was wrong for about a minute or less.
And I know that was what he wanted- to go quickly. But, when you have no warning, it is really hard to wrap your mind around.
I was so used to taking care of him that when it started downpouring & lightning and the power went off 3 days later my first thought was "I better call dad and make sure he's ok.


The night before the funeral I had a very vivid dream that made me feel a lot better. I was in their old bedroom (which he had since moved out of (too painful to stay in the room) and I had
actually had it remodelled after he changed rooms) and my grandmothers bed was in the room & all her stuff. (They had separate beds, but pushed together for 51 years!- she liked a very soft mattress and he liked a mattress that felt like a slab of wood) My dad was there and I was helping him move his old bed back to where it belonged- pushed together with hers. They were talking about being back together and how happy they were to see me. The room was back to the way it was before she died- the smell of her perfume and everything. The color was the same on the walls, the furniture, the tv- it was all the way it was in June of 1999. Then my dad handed me the alarm clock he had back then and asked me to plug it in and set the time. Then I was sitting next to my grandmother on her bed and I stood up and said I wanted to get a cloth to wipe her night stand and she told me if I opened the bedroom door I would be startled and wake up. I asked her why, and she said because it wasn't the rest of the house out there- that they had chosen the room they wanted to be in and created it where they were. I ended up helping them put their comforter on and then they told me I had been a big help and could go. They were laughing and being funny as they always were, making jokes and flirting outrageously with eachother. I told them I loved them and they said it back and told me everything was fine. And then I woke up.

It was a very real dream and I woke up feeling like I had really BEEN WITH them. And I knew that even though it was a dream, they were happy to be together.

The funniest thing about that dream was that I was always the one that helped them clean and move furniture- they actually paid me to do it weekly for years while I was
in college. I did all the cleaning because my grandmother hated to do it & my grandfather worked 3-12 because for a million years because he did the 5, 6 and 11 news. So it was easier for my
OCD clean ass to clean and decorate everything. So in the dream, it was like being right back in the good old days.

Redstone

there is no doubt
they will miss you......

Make EVERY second count....
Every word something to make them better men......
If you read these threads it looks like the little things make
the difference. Its what we, as children noticed.......



anyway don't think like this
you are to young......


Happy Fathers Day!!!!



lost

for a father to spend a day at the park with his son...I know about precious moments; ALL the moments are precious. Like half an hour ago, when my 10-year-old presented me with a handwritten card to "Daeeeee" and one of his model cars wrapped in the Sunday comics, because he and Mrs R couldn't think of anything to buy for me today (because I have all I need or want).

Though Mrs R said that she did try to buy me a package deal to get my Sport Pilot license, and couldn't because the local flight school doesn't offer it. Was damn nice of her to think of that, though.

Redstone

How sweet is that.....
I am seriously thinking about taking a plane ride from our local airport..
Lincoln Park in NJ.....
They fly over NYC at dusk....
the airport JFK jr took off from is only 10 minutes away from my house to...
they give tour rides to.....

If you get your license you will have to take us ALL on a trip
of course we will pay for gas!!!! LOL

Sounds like you had a great day


lost

only lets you fly two-seat airplanes. But no problem, because that will be just that much more time in the air for me. I've flown friends' airplanes quite a bit, so I know how to do it, but never got around to getting a license of my own. I think it's time to do so.

PS: He calls Mrs R "Moeeeeee" too. The kid knows how to play parents like a violin, he does.

Redstone

Sounds like a great (and too smart!) kid!!

Your father looks like a nice man.

Mine died 15 years ago next month, he spent his last Father's Day in the hospital. I miss him terribly.

ask this to!!!



lost

The girl is my late sister who died seven years ago. Oh, my dad was my FAVORITE when I was a kid, or so I'm told. He kept me laughing and wouldn't let my mom keep me in my playpen.
Duckie

He's been gone almost 15 years now.

I miss my Dad EVERY DAY.
He made every moment a joy:

A true "Leader of the Band", Our Family.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cy3GHCy49Dw

It was the song my aunt chose as the father daughter dance at her wedding.

I read your post and I'm weeping.

I STILL miss him.

He's my hero and my role model with my own kids. When the kids came over tonight, I enjoyed having them here - as I always do - but I look at myself and wish MY Dad was here. He was the patriarch. Not me. I'm just a 60 year old little boy next to him.

it's been 22 years since we last had a Father's Day together and I'll never stop missing him. But, on a brigher note for him, Dad has been spending Father's Day all these years with his own dear Dad. Here's to you, Dad and Grandpa!

killed himself at age 50 :(

he was perfect.

gone october 28 06 --

and now he and sport, peewee, heidi and fritz are all together waiting.

bless us all.

A Carpenter's Daughter
by Brandy Heinze (me)

http://soundzine.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=42&Itemid=77

This memory song is late in coming.
The joiner was broken before his work
was complete; the hammer is silent now.
The saw and the rule are dusty with age,
his workbench torn out two summers past,
but I still know the scent of pinesap and resin
and roofing tar. I am a carpenter’s daughter.

My father created cavalries of wood,
sawhorses to hold steady the workday load;
rigid chargers of lumber, emblazoned
by chalk dust, fierce like war-painted steeds.
His children rode recklessly; savages
on mounts of raw pine, a hammersong
of steel like hooves striking flint, singing out.

Across the even span of my youth,
I was enthralled with my father’s level.
The forging of alignment, the essence of truth;
a tool that quartered no compromise.
A carpenter trims the world, makes it flush
and planed and square, but now
the bubble is no longer between the lines.

He told me not to weep for the trees
who cleaved for the axe; with honor, with grace.
Their sacrifice sheltered weaker things.
Our homes are gravestones of oak, pine and beech;
Our lives stand as epitaphs and legacies.
The forest bore the weight of his loss,
in the end. I wonder if the trees wept for him.

A grand artisan without a legend, his softwood
hands skillfully held and shaped my childhood.
He never walked with disciples, but I swear
he turned loaf and fish into a feast
every day. No more than a man,
no less than a father, he lived and died
with callous-streaked fingers full of wood.