Today is Father’s Day and as all the posts on Face Book and all the adds are about fathers, naturally, I got thinking about my father. When I discovered that the card I thought I had safely tucked away for the day was possibly the one I used last year, I wondered what I would do. I thought about asking him to do something with me which would bring back great memories, like going to Canadian Tire together. But, which thing would I choose. And I began trying to think of when he was most my father;
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Saturday morning trips to Canadian Tire with me riding on his shoulders or holding his hand through the parking lot
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picking me up from school when I broke my foot
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any time he took me to the hospital and had to ask me my age etc.
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swimming (me) and dead man’s float (him)
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when he worked on the house and I ran to get tools etc. to help out
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when he drove us around and pointed out all the sights and challenged us to watch for animals
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hiking through the woods and pretending that I didn’t have a swarm of deer flies on my back so I wouldn’t completely melt down
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when he sat me down (on top of the fridge) for an eye-to-eye chat
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when he tripped me on the way down the aisle for my first wedding, was it prescience?
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when he hugged me good bye as I was moving to the USA
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when he attended every performance I did which was within a day’s drive
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when we went over what had gone well, and what might need improving
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when he corrected my English, and then didn’t freak out when I did it to him
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when he quietly helped me move back into their house after marriage one ended
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when he played organ for our choir or sang in the choir with me
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when he took pictures of me…”no turn around and look at the tree…”
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when we went out for my first driving lesson and he said, “let’s cross the highway bridge”
