Memories of Dad:
In the summertime we would push dad’s car out of the driveway to help him get to work.
My prom date, Cliff D., meets dad (my family can refer to page 21 of our private family web site news items and read Cousin David’s Visit, episode 1 and 2.)
On my 18th birthday, I cut my thumb on a glass at work (Spear’s Restaurant and Pie Shop). Dad came and rescued me from work and took me to the ER for stitches. I didn’t handle pain well then (that’s probably why mom sent dad to get me). While in the hospital during stitching up my thumb, dad noticed that my cut and stitches made a neat prop for the
Smiles song we sing in Primary (If you chance to meet a frown). He proceeded to use my thumb as his visual aid and in his best singing voice, serenaded the nurse, doctor and the drunk man next to us in the ER mending room. My scar is still there, and so is the memory.
Dad somehow rigged the speaker system at the Battin House to project his voice over the speakers. One night dad knew that we were not quickly going to bed. We suddenly heard this voice over the speakers telling us to go to bed. We did not know dad had rigged up some kind of microphone to his sound system. We (the kids) were shocked at dad’s mysterious power to know what we were up to. We quickly got into bed… did he install hidden camera’s too?
Dad plugged up the swing set ends with cement so that the wasps would not come out and sting me anymore. He was my hero!
I was upset when I found out that I couldn’t marry my Dad. So, I decided that I was going to marry Uncle Keith. I was then informed that I couldn’t marry him. Thank goodness no one told me that I couldn’t marry John… I wouldn’t have listened to them anyway ;o) .
When John met the family, dad pulled me aside and told me that he loved John more than he loved me. That was dad’s way of telling me that he approved (especially since John was into tools, taking things apart, and rebuilding them).
Birthday ice cream sundae’s at Farrel’s Ice Cream Parlor. Dad looked forward to finishing our Gibson Girl (after finishing his far in advance).
Daddy Daughter Dates.
Monthly interviews with dad. Asking him when I would look as pretty as so and so… when would I ever grow up to be a young woman? Helping me on my math problems and going through tons of Boeing scrap paper drawing diagrams explaining all of the different steps to solving the algebra problem (John will have that job when the girls get older!)
Pulling my teeth at church in the Nursing Mother’s Room. (During General Conference and then again at Stake Conference).
Take us for “rides” on the merry-go-round in front of K-Mart. Thanks to Grandma P., we realized that the horses were SUPPOSED to go around in a circle! So much for dad’s “rides”.
Sending all of the kids through the grocery store line to purchase Ketchup, Paper Plates or whatever was on sale at the time that had a quantity limit. He would hand each of us money to pick up the “limit” and then send us through the line again until each of us had gone through every open register. I still find myself doing this when certain things are on sale… I haven’t been able to recruit John ... yet…
Teaching me how to drive stick shift in the Fish (station wagon… built like a tank). I dropped 1st gear. We had to start out in 2nd gear after my training in that car!
Dad’s long awaited Family Home Evening Treats (that came along every 9 weeks … not often enough). He sure knew how to pick out the best donuts (and mom sure knew how to video tape the consumption).
Dad let us dig in the garden at Battin. We had a huge hole going, we were planning on making a fort (underground). Dad never told us that it would be impossible to make, he just let us have fun getting our clothes muddy for mom to wash.
Our yearly Father’s Blessings before School started.
The wonderful letter my dad wrote to me when I was in primary attending a Father/Daughter Dinner. He called me his princess made of peaches and cream. I still have that letter in my memory box.
Dad’s singing. And sharing his musical talent with the Primary during a talent show. Dad… musical talent? Yep, Dad’s favorite pianist came (Tony G.) and played the piano. Dad’s musical talent was listening to Tony play the piano. Dad would sit in the living room for hours requesting more songs from Tony. Tony happily played. Dad closed his eyes and kept beat with his foot.
Sharing the crispy crusty skin of the Turkey with me before Thanksgiving dinner.
Paying me 5 cents an hour to scratch his back… with a hair brush. The redder the better.
Sending me a copy of the song Butterfly Kisses for Christmas. I cried. That was my dad.
I couldn’t imagine life without these memories (and so many more). Thanks for being my Dad!