- When I was a little girl I used to love going to the dumps with my dad. Obviously being a child I was never allowed to get out of the pickup truck to help unload the haul, but that never stopped me from going. And I can’t really say that I went all that many times, but when I did, it was like a special treat. I remember I made up a game when I would go. As my dad would be emptying out the bed of the truck, I would be counting batteries. You would be amazed at how many batteries I’d see on the ground. So I’d count away until my dad was done, and then we’d drive away. I remember the bumpiness of the drive. I remember the seagulls in the air and on the ground. I remember there being a guy at the top directing you on where to go. I remember the smell (stench really) in the air. To this day, when I drive by the spot where you can smell it from the freeway… it transports me back to good times. The smell, as gross as this might sound, is a welcoming smell to me. I like it. In the summer I will actually roll down my window and inhale as it transports me back to those times.
- About the same time as me going to the dumps with my dad, I also remember being out in the backyard with him while he would be doing yard work. I never helped (even as I got older I somehow managed to bypass that one) but I liked to take his old big, black lunch pail (you know, the kind with the domed lid) and I would go throughout the backyard collecting ladybugs and putting them inside this pail. This lunch pail was to be their new home. I even took the liberty of putting a lot of blades of grass and leaves inside so that when I closed the lid they would have air… or so I thought. It was a bit devastating when I came back to check on my bugs only to discover that they were all dead. Guess that wasn’t one of my brightest moments at 4 years old. Lol. I didn’t mean any harm. Maybe that’s why whenever a ladybug lands on me, it tends to pee. One might call that karma.
- When I was in Elementary School I did a fundraiser for MS. I can’t remember exactly what I had to do - my guess is it was a run-a-thon with me getting people to sponsor me for x amount of money for every lap I completed. Or it’s possible it was a book-a-thon where I got x amount of money for book I read. Anyways, the point is, I earned two prizes for doing so well. I got a trophy and I also got two tickets to an A’s game. How cool is that?! I remember going with my dad to the A’s game. I was so proud to have earned them. I can’t tell you where we sat or who they played (I was only between 7 and 9 yrs old at the time). But I remember my dad buying me a sundae in one of those helmet cups. And we watched the game together.
- How many times did I wake up on Saturday mornings at 10am to the stereo BLARING. My dad would either be listening to a classic rock radio station or he'd be listening to one of his records. I always wondered why he listened to THAT. And then as I got older I learned to appreciate that music. Now I have all of my Dad's vinyl albums and I love classic rock. Funny how things can come full circle.
- My dad is not fond of games. Never has been and I venture to say he never will be. HOWEVER, there were two games I could usually get him to play with me - Around the World and HORSE. Many a basketball games were played in our driveway. I wasn’t that good. Obviously the shots I took were much easier for him than me, but he still played. It wasn’t about winning or losing. It really was all about just playing the game. I imagine he also looked at it as practice for him.
- My dad played on two mens basketball leagues. The games were always on school nights, but if it wasn’t a late game I was usually allowed to go watch. I started going to them when I was in 6th or 7th grade, and I remember still going to them when I was in high school because when I got my permit my dad usually let me drive us home from the game. At the games I would sit in the bleachers (often times it was just me and maybe a handful of other people). I would help my dad stretch just like my mom sometimes did. And right before everyone got on the court the guys would usually let me shoot a few before they warmed up. During the game I liked to keep stats as best I could. I’d keep track of the score and who made the shots, how many fouls, etc. It used to irritate me when the old man keeping score on the scoreboard would mess up! I would yell “BRIIIIIIICK” quite loudly when someone on the other team was shooting. I would cheer and clap. I would stomp my feet on the bleachers. It was great. Looking back it was nice that I was able to support my dad playing sports like he supported me in mine.
Two more memories and then I’ll wrap this up.
- Disneyland. I remember my dad taking me to Disneyland once, just me and him. I think I was 9 at the time. We were only there for 2 days I think, so it’s possible it was on a weekend. I don’t really know. I also can’t tell you why he took me there. I just know it was major father daughter time. We went on Star Tours (and my dad found out he could barely stomach the ride). We went on the EO something or other - it was the Michael Jackson attraction at the time. I remember watching the fireworks as we were walking out of the park. And I remember going into one of the Disney stores and my dad letting me pick out a souvenir. I’m not sure why I didn’t go for a typical Disney themed toy. Instead I picked out a rubber stamp with two geese on it with flowers and a heart, and a stamp pad that was tri-colored pink/purple/turquoise. To this day I still have both of them. It’s been a few years since I tested the ink pad, but it still worked last time.
- And finally, I would have to say my fondest memory as a teenager would be my trips to Mexico with my dad. My youth group was going down to do a vacation bible school for a week. It was all about playing with the kids and sharing bible stories with them as well. I told my parents I wanted to go to the informational meeting to see what it was all about. Turns out that when we left, my dad wanted to go to. I never asked if it was because he was afraid to let me go with the group without him, or if he just thought it would be a good opportunity like I did. It really doesn’t matter now anyways. What matters is that that was the first trip of about 4 or 5 trips that we would go on together. It was always during Easter/Spring Break. While we didn’t really see much of each other during the main part of the day, it was nice getting to have meals with him every day. It was nice being able to share stories of what happened during the day. It was great getting to serve beside my dad. It is something that no matter what, no one could take away from me. For those lone weeks, we were on our own spiritual journeys together. There aren’t a lot of people who can say they got to do that with their dad. I’m certainly a lucky one.
I’ll always be Daddy’s little girl. There is no greater man that I know.
1 comment:
Read it out loud, brought tears to his eyes. Thanks for sharing it was sweet. :)
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