I've been trying to get on more of a schedule with my blog, doing one each Monday. But today is a special day. Today Shay and I are sitting at the kitchen table reminiscing of our childhood days. We can't help but laugh at the times when Shay, Jess, and I were little and we thought our dad was the strongest man ever! We would beg him to show us his muscles. Daddy, Daddy pleeease! Most of the time he was too modest and would distract us in order to put an end to our continual pleading, but then there were times he humored us and flexed his muscles. He really was the strongest man ever! He could do anything! He was superman to us.
There was also the Donald Duck impersonation. We loved it! We would giggle and giggle until it hurt. Sometimes he would just do the sound Donald Duck made when he was frustrated, but most of the time he would tell us to “Go clean your room.”
Tickle time was no fun. He was brutal and relentless in his tickling. We constantly ran from him shrieking not wanting to be attacked by the tickle bug. We would try to return the favor, but dad HATES being tickled. His body tenses and he maneuvers his way out of your reach then goes on the attack. He shows no mercy at that point. One time mom was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she was accidentally kicked! That's the thing with tickling dad. You have to be ready for anything and prepared to take the consequences. Just a few weeks ago, we surrounded him and attacked while he was in his recliner. He jumped up to run after us and we all ran screaming and hiding. I hid in the basement. Not a smart move, the lock was on the other side of the door. Good for me he tires much more quickly now and didn't run far after us.
I also remember when he would help my mom in getting us ready for school. He would brush my hair for me. To this day I don't know why he did it, but he would count the strokes...fifty on each side and fifty in the back. I was always so proud of my hair :)
He would always joke that his recliner was his throne, his remote was his scepter and we were his slaves. He would say “why do you think I had kids?” When Aaron was born, poor guy received more of it ha. “AARON! WHERE'S AARON!?” He would threaten to ground us if his remote was missing. Which it was always missing. Of course, we would never have touched his scepter, but we would have to help him find it.
One of my favorite memories is of Jessica. She loved her baby dolls and thought they were real babies. She insisted on real diaper, real bottles, and real clothes for her babies. One day my dad decided to play a prank on her and make her day all at the same time. He put chunky peanut butter in her baby doll's diaper. Jess always changed her baby's diapers on a pretty regular basis. When she did, she screamed and ran around saying “my baby pooped!.” He was such a prankster.
I also thought of my dad as the smartest man ever. When we were little it seemed he knew everything. He was always reading, always studying. Reteaching himself Greek or Hebrew (we laughed a lot at his Hebrew). If I had a question, he always knew the answer whether it was honors algebra or literature. He also always knew where we were going. Still to this day, if we are driving through New York we can call and tell him what mile marker we are at and he'll tell us what to do and what not to do. He's better than any GPS I've ever used. There is only one time and one time only that I remember him getting lost. It was while we were in NYC. We had parked in Brooklyn to see the Brooklyn Tabernacle choir on a father's day long ago. He couldn't find the parking garage. Of course, he wouldn't tell us he was lost. No he only told us he knew exactly where he was going and that he had purposely circled the block three times.
Dad worked so hard. He always had more than one job, and always full time with the church. It seemed the church could never pay enough to cover our bills so he would have to find work else where. For many years, he taught school all day, spent hours grading papers, then spent all night at a church function or visitation. There were hospital visits, counseling sessions, prayer meetings, etc. Then preparing for Sunday not only included preparing for his sermon, but also handling the music and everything else. Sometimes it would require even cleaning the church to be ready for Sunday morning. He was constantly going, constantly working. For some years I resented it. It seemed he had more time for the church or the students in his class than he did for me, but then I would wake up really early in the morning and over hear him praying for me. I knew that everything he did, he did for God first then for his family. He worked hard, not because he loved it but because it provided for us and allowed him to do what God had called him to do.
He taught us more by living his life than with his actual words. He taught us how to love God and live a Godly life. He taught us that true happiness is not in all the toys you have but in your relationship with Christ.
I will never forget getting what we termed the “expensive” cards on Valentines (Hallmark) from our dad. He would always label them with our nicknames and write the sweetest things. It always brought a tear to my eye. My dad may be a quiet man, but he loves deeply. He taught us at a young age that we were loved and adored. He showed us how we were to be treated and not to settle for anything less. This could be why I am still single. No one measures up to my daddy. My dad is the strongest man ever. He is superman. He is Donald Duck. He is the smartest man ever. He is my GPS. He is my rock. He is my daddy.
Happy Father's Day!
