I slept

After writing my first post, I finally slept.  Sleep.  Something that my mom has told me, I have never been a sleeper.  I am actually a little confused.  Is today Sunday or Monday?  Well, that solves that.  Thank goodness for the handy dandy calendar on my phone.  My dad.  I miss him so much.  He passed 2 years ago.

Growing up was very tough.  My dad and mom separated when the 3 of us were very young.  My mom has married 5 times.  Currently she lives with me, literally an ocean away from my two siblings.  But that is another bajillion stories.

When we were young, our parents thought it wise to separate the three of us.  My brother lived with our dad, never any closer than 2 hours away, and my sister and I lived with my mom.  Nonetheless, all 3 of us siblings share a very strong bond.  Despite the tough upbringing we have endured.

Visits with our dad were always great for me.  He and I shared a special interest in cars.  He always had old cars around and he was constantly working on them.  He would open the hood, pull up anything that was available for me to stand on.  I would climb up and watch him work.  I listened intently as he would explain to me what this or that does.  And I would get lengthy information about whatever it was he was working on that day.  I’ve spent countless hours watching him.  And when I grew up and was tall enough to not have to perch on a box, he would let me help.  Those were some of the most memorable times I spent with him.

I miss being able to call him.  I miss the comfort of his voice.  The man never had a cell phone.  I always had to call him on his land line.  We 3 used to joke with him about it.  He would tell us he had heard that cell phones could give you brain cancer if you talked on them for too long.  Funny thing about that, we honestly never knew if he really believed that.  He would jokingly say it and all the while continued to refuse to get one.

I lived off and on with him.  Most of the time I was living with my mom and sister.  So, I became very close with my brother and dad.  As well as my mom and sister.

Dad became ill many years before he passed.  He had a heart attack and open heart surgery.  When he recovered, the doctors told him to go home and rest.

He, his son, and his wife lived in a very little house.  He always would complain that he couldn’t turn around in that house without knocking something over.  There was a corner lot that was the end of the block by his house.  They lived in a town that had the population of maybe 200 people.   I called him a day after he got home from the hospital.   He sounded very cheerful and he told me he bought that corner lot.  I didn’t really think that much about it.  I was just so happy to hear him sounding so healthy again.

About two weeks after he got home, I get a call from my brother.   He was frustrated and sounded very upset.  He asked me if I knew what dad was doing.  Of course, I didn’t.   I called dad frequently, but not every day.  My brother told me that dad was having a concrete slab put in on the corner lot.  That very day.  To build a house on.

There were many phone calls that day and in the weeks later.  The doctors told him to go home and rest.  So, he buys a corner lot, pours a slab of concrete, and every day after that slab dried, I would call.   Sometimes he was there to take my call.  More often than not, his wife would answer to tell me that dad was working on the house.

“Those doctors don’t know what they are doing.” He would tell me when I was trying to get him to rest.  “Why would I  sit around and do nothing when I can strengthen myself and actually get better.  They don’t want you to get better.  There is no money in a cure.” He would exclaim.

Ah, my dad.  So many good times.  Of course, there were bad times, also.  Just part of life.  This doesn’t even put into perspective all of the memories.  If I were to write about them all at once, I’d be writing until the sun cam up.  Tomorrow, maybe even the next day.  There must be some limit on the posts here.

So, today, I am smiling.  Nothing is going to get me down.  I will be thinking of dad all day.  I will be calling my brother shortly, as soon as this coffee wakes me up.  We will talk about dad.  And probably talk about that time when the doctors told him to go home and rest.  And he built a house.  Literally on his own.

Happy Heavenly dad’s day, Dad.  I miss and love you immensely.   I wish I could hear your voice today.  I could really go on.  I don’t want to walk out there to get more coffee and have my partner see my tears.  He gets kinda weird if he sees me crying.  And, I can here you saying “You stop this right now.  Get up, girlie.  Get out of that bed.  Get in that kitchen, get that coffee, and don’t let those tears make it salty.”  This is truly something he would say.  For that, and many, many more reasons, I love you Dad.

I know you are up there dancing a jig.