I Miss My Dad

  

 Have you ever seen that poster that shows how people see their dads at different ages? They go from the dads can do anything to not know anything, and then see what would dad say until age 60 when they miss their dad.

   I have been missing my dad since I was 15, that is when he passed away. I am in my 60’s now and a few days ago I was really thinking about him since his birthday was coming up on March 16^th.

   Times were so much simpler back then. Sundays the stores were closed and it was a family day, church, homemade chicken dinner, and an afternoon of 7 handed Sheepshead.

   I miss my dad.

   I remember the family rides to get ice cream at the old store in Cecil and sitting in the park at Shawano Lake. Or going to Hofa Park to watch the baseball game from my aunt and uncle’s house.

   I miss my dad.

   I remember listening to his favorite records, The Laughing Horse Polka, The Iron Casket Polka and Whispering Winds. Or when he would pull out his violin and rosin up his bow and play for us.

I miss my dad.

   I remember waiting for dad to get home from work so I could drive the tractor out in the field. Or the time the front tire went flat and he put an old car tire on because we couldn’t afford a new one. He told me “Now we have a tire for driving on the road and one for driving in the field.”

   I miss my dad.

   I remember some Saturdays going to work with him and watch how he could transform wrecked cars back to their original shape. I turned down approval of work done on a few of my vehicles because I knew they were not up to dad’s standards.

   I miss my dad.

   I remember standing outside with him watching the lighting strikes during a storm. He would tell me it was God’s fireworks show for us. Or the warm summer nights just looking at the stars after a hard day’s work and feeling peaceful.

   I miss my dad.

   I remember the time he got me my very own brand new Spyder bike with 5 speeds from Sears and how we both were trying to figure out how the chain went from one gear to another without falling off.

   I miss my dad.

   I remember when my mom was in the hospital and my grandmother would watch my sister and I during the day. I couldn’t wait for him to get home to tell him how the day went. Then he would let grandma go home and he would take the supper dishes outside and let the dog lick them clean, then put dish soap on the and wash them with the hose and let them dry in the evening warmth. Laughing he would say “Now don’t tell mom.”

   I miss my dad.

   I remember searching the garage for his lost tools only to find them later in the garden where the dog buried them. And how we would go out into yard and pick apples off the ground because he said the bruised ones tasted the best, and he was right!

   I miss my dad.

   I often wondered how he would have loved my wife and children and how they would have loved him. I wondered what he would of think of me being a deacon. I wondered if he would have been as proud of me as I was of him.

   I miss my dad.

   I have wondered how different my life would have been if he was just alive a little longer.

   Happy birthday dad. I love you and miss you, always have and always will.