My Dad...
...played the Baritone Horn in high school, the same instrument his father(my grandfather) played.
...learned to be an automobile mechanic after high school, giving up music to become a hard worker.
...worked in several gas stations and finally got his own garage when he was in his ‘30s.
...met and married my mom when he was 39.
...received a Baritone Horn from my mom on their first wedding anniversary, after she saw his yearbook photos.
...had one son when he was about 45.
...was loved by all of his customers. Most mechanics would cheat people, but he was honest, didn't charge much for labor, and often repaired parts other mechanics would have simply replaced, saving his clients money. It's hard to be honest and run a business, so he eventually had to sell his garage and got a job working for Nassau County, repairing police cars. He worked a 12-hour tour, three days a week, and had Mondays and Tuesdays off to spend with his family and do work around the house. When he reluctantly retired at the age of 65, he had several months of unused vacation days and received full pay for months after he stopped working, until his official retirement date.
...used to let me stand on his feet as he held my arms and walked me around the room. This delighted me no end while I was still in single digits.
...helped me with my homework until third grade or so, when I started explaining things to him.
...always made time to play catch and throw a ball around with me, even though he'd have to rotate his shoulder after every pitch to loosen up his arthritis.
...maintains stubborn wisdom, like “hard candy makes saliva” and “you should wear an undershirt because it absorbs the sweat.”
...rarely sleeps past 5:30 AM or stays up past 10PM. When churches moved their early mass to 7:30 he continued to show up at 7. If he was ever watching a movie that ran past 10, he'd say, “tell me how it ends” and go to bed. Friday night he and my mom got home from a wedding at 12:45 AM, likely a record. When I woke up this morning, he was already outside with one of his friends working on his friend's car.
...practiced his horn in the basement every day when I was growing up, and stuck by me when I struggled to learn the same instrument in fourth grade. When I wanted to give up he wouldn't let me, and when school wasn't enough he paid for lessons from a great teacher. I managed, thanks to them, to play well enough to earn a scholarship that paid half my tuition in exchange for playing in the school pep band at basketball games.
...gave me his car to drive when I started college and always kept whatever cars our family drove in working order.
...could tell if there was a problem with a car just by subtle changes in how it sounded. “Don't you hear that?” was a popular question whenever I gave him a ride somewhere. “Didn't you hear me?” is now a popular question my mom asks of him, now that his hearing isn't what it used to be.
...is a life long Yankees fan. If I cared about or followed sports, I would be too.
...could beat up your dad, if he was a violent person. He never hit me and I think I only angered him enough once for him to even raise a shaking fist. My mom and her Sicilian Wooden Spoon of Doom™ handled discipline, so my dad got to be “good cop” when I was growing up.
...will never stop reminding me “make sure you take seconds; there's plenty of macaroni,” and to “go to the bathroom before we leave!” He called me at my job on Friday before he and my mom left to go to a wedding, and began giving me detailed instructions on how to take sauce and spaghetti out of jars in the refrigerator, put them in a pot with some water, and heat up my own dinner even though I've cooked for myself plenty of times.
...was and is everything a father should be. Father's Day is today, and I wish my dad a great one. Happy Father's day to all my friends, in real life or online, such as Rey, Curt, Jerry, Darrell, Kev Bayer, Sean, Paul, Scott, Cube, and anyone else I might have missed. Happy almost Father's Day to Dave and other fathers-to-be as well.
posted by MCF at 1:28 AM
6 Comments:
Great post about your dad!
And thanks for the nod.
My parents were older when they had me too (mom was 42), but I was #5 for them - my oldest sister is the same age as Rubi's mom! My youngest sister is 9 years older than me.
My dad worked all kids of jobs to make ends meet - until he finally got a factory job that he stayed at until retirement. I think he worked 25 or 30 years there.
He'd work all kinds of crazy overtime. He'd get to work at 3 in the morning most days and often stay until 5 or 6 in the evening.
That, plus some crazy fundraising throughout the year, made it possible for me to attend a private Christian school from kindergarted through 8th grade.
You might have said this somewhere else before, but how old was your mom when she married your dad?
My dad is 9 years older, so she was about 30-31.
Nice post MCF, it seems that you lucked out and had one of the good father's that most people dream about.
i feel like I'd recognize your dad if I saw him in a parade.
THANK you. I was beginning to think no one would comment on that. =)
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