Not a shiny happy post
I've been thinking a lot about my Dad lately. It'll be eight years this month that he's gone now. Eight years.
My Dad was a very proud and humble man. He never advanced past 8th grade and drove a truck all of his life to support his family. He was burned very badly during WW II on an aircraft carrier. He was in the Navy.
Me mourned the death of his first child until the day he died. My brother would have been 57 this year. When I was 18, my Dad could no longer stand that Robert didn't have a headstone, so they bought one for him. I'm sad that I never got to know him.
My Dad broke his ankle once at an Acme in Delaware. He was there helping my sister, who'd just had her first baby. He sat outside in the rain sobbing for hours because the people there thought he was just some drunk old man. That was twenty five years ago and it still breaks my heart to think he was in pain and needing help and was just ignored.
My Dad would have given you the shirt off of his back.
My Dad drove me to work every day for two years with me lying across the backseat of the car because my back was so screwed up I couldn't sit for the twenty minute drive.
When I got better, my Dad would come out to the car every morning and press a few crumbled up dollar bills into my hand and tell me that "your morning bagel is on me today".
My Dad walked to the alleyway behind his house every night and banged on the lightpole with a hammer to get it to come on. He didn't want to bother the township and let them know it was broken.
The crossing guard at my daughter's school was so fond of him that she came to his viewing and sat silently sobbing in the corner for an hour.
I miss my Dad.
My Dad was a very proud and humble man. He never advanced past 8th grade and drove a truck all of his life to support his family. He was burned very badly during WW II on an aircraft carrier. He was in the Navy.
Me mourned the death of his first child until the day he died. My brother would have been 57 this year. When I was 18, my Dad could no longer stand that Robert didn't have a headstone, so they bought one for him. I'm sad that I never got to know him.
My Dad broke his ankle once at an Acme in Delaware. He was there helping my sister, who'd just had her first baby. He sat outside in the rain sobbing for hours because the people there thought he was just some drunk old man. That was twenty five years ago and it still breaks my heart to think he was in pain and needing help and was just ignored.
My Dad would have given you the shirt off of his back.
My Dad drove me to work every day for two years with me lying across the backseat of the car because my back was so screwed up I couldn't sit for the twenty minute drive.
When I got better, my Dad would come out to the car every morning and press a few crumbled up dollar bills into my hand and tell me that "your morning bagel is on me today".
My Dad walked to the alleyway behind his house every night and banged on the lightpole with a hammer to get it to come on. He didn't want to bother the township and let them know it was broken.
The crossing guard at my daughter's school was so fond of him that she came to his viewing and sat silently sobbing in the corner for an hour.
I miss my Dad.
((((( kimmykimmy )))))
Dad is watching over you.
Posted by
Terra |
8:49 PM