My Dad...

I decided to write my own post in honor of my Daddy.

As I read both Donna and Daryl’s blogs, I realized that their memories are also my memories. I remember combing Dad’s hair, learning to ride a bike and lots of music. Growing up I have to admit that most of the time, I thought the music was b-o-r-i-n-g. I don’t have the same love and appreciation for classic music that Donna and Daryl do, but I have learned to appreciate it and enjoy it on a different level. And, I must admit that it stirs deep within my soul at times.

I remember putting rubber bands and clips in Dad's hair. He was a dutiful participant in my "styling" his hair. Make me smile to think of that now.

My learning to ride a bike experience was at 40A (is the “A” right?) Leander Ave. I remember there was a road, or alley, or driveway beside the house and I learned to ride on that. I learned to ride a man’s bike by putting my legs under the straight bar and balancing the bike. I honestly don’t remember if Daddy taught me or I just figured it out. He may have given me the idea. I’m not sure, but I remember riding the bike that way.

I, too, remember a time that Dad let me make up my own mind – there was a dance at my high school and I wanted to go. I begged and begged to go and finally Daddy told me that he did not approve of dances, but if I wanted to go I could go. He would not take me nor pick me up, but I could go. I did go and after going to a couple of dances decided that I really did not enjoy them so I stopped going. I have often wondered if he had not allowed me to make up my own mind if I would have rebelled and found a way to go just to (as kids often do) spite their parent. I am so grateful that he allowed me to make a choice, which went against his own personal belief and to let me figure out what I wanted to do.

I also remember at Fairland, in particular, when Dad was a pastor there - I don’t know how often I went into his study and wanted his attention. I don’t remember ever being turned away and I am sure that I sometimes went in when he was quite busy and didn’t really want to be bothered. My memory tells me I was never turned away. I always felt important and wanted.

I, too, am grateful for the father I have. Happy Birthday and Happy Father’s Day and I love you very much. Oh, another quick memory – Daryl once told me that the USA puts out flags for both Dad’s birthday (Flag Day) and Daryl’s birthday (Memorial Day – when it used to be on the 39th) just because it was their birthdays. I don’t remember if I ever truly believed him, but I do remember him telling me that.