Keeping Christmas

I finally got all of my Christmas decorations up, and I'm pretty happy with the results.  I didn't  put out much of anything I've got in boxes in the basement, because I wanted to do things a bit simpler and more of a pine tree/ribbon/natural motif.  Anyway, there are always a few items I put out every year, and one of them my Dad made for each of his eight kids a long time ago.  My Dad made each of us a nativity set, and I love it still  even after over  twenty years.  I plan on always having this and never replacing it with another set.   I'm sure he found the pattern in a woodworking magazine, and I'm glad he went with the one he found.  It's very simple, but beautiful and reminds me of my Dad every Christmas when I set it up.  So this, lights around the living room, and lots of red bows are my Christmas extravaganza for this year:

They Don't Make 'Em Like Him Anymore

My Dad was a pretty cool guy.  He was one of those men who could give you a look of steel, light a match with his whiskers and casually pin you down with his eyes through the smoke of his cigarette. Yes, he was a John Wayne of a man.

This time of year always makes me a little sentimental for my Dad, since the day he passed, his birthday, and Father's Day are all  within a week of each other.  He's been gone for 6 years, and sometimes I still forget when I see a TV show or a book that he would have liked that he's no longer around.  Sometimes I see an older man with "Dad Jeans" on, and realize my Dad wasn't the only one who wore those.  Sometimes I see a customer's hands, and they look just like my Dad's did.  It kinda freaks me out, then I look up and realize it's a stranger who worked  hard all his life just like my Dad.

So, here's a few of the things I loved and admired about my Dad.  Some things I have inherited from him, and others I did not, although I wish the genes had worked on some of them!

My Dad was a mean golfer and a bowler extraordinaire.  He made it all look so effortless.  I, however, cannot even play Wii golf correctly; in actual golf, it's just easier for me to pick up the ball and throw it.   I  am regularly beaten at bowling  by my Great Nephew,  four  year old Bryson.  Me get a strike?  No way!

My Dad could make the best oatmeal for my sister M and I.  He also honored our requests to put "lumps" in our CoCo Wheats.

He was a gifted mechanical engineer who never went to school to learn his trade.  He learned on the job, and was self taught.  His drawings were precise and mathematically brilliant.  I can't draw a straight line, or a good circle.  My math skills are what lead me to get  a degree in History, and stay far away from Accounting.

He was incapable of taking a straight-faced picture.  I think the one above is the only picture  I have where he doesn't look like a space alien.  I have luckily inherited his ability to make facial contortions and have them captured on film.  Oh, I am so blessed with a rubber face! :(

I don't think he knew what the heck to  do with five daughters.  But he did fine anyway.

He met Bud, and liked him instantly.  Phew!  It's true, some of us do look for the same qualities in a partner that we see in our Dad.

Dad loved to watch paranormal shows, and I would pass all my ghosty books along to him.  He would promptly read them all and always turned to the ghost show on TV when either I or my sister PH would call him up and let him know what was on.

He loved strawberry shortcake, pineapple upside down cake, and fried chicken.   Dad always had two cups of coffee in the morning, and would make coffee after supper to relax in front of the TV.  Since I started drinking coffee at 13, I blame him!

He was a wonderful grandpa and great-grandpa.  He could finally relax and enjoy some kids.

He would fall asleep on the floor, and my sister M and I would put curlers in his hair.  This was a feat, since Dad didn't have much hair.  Somehow we got them in.  We also liked to put barrettes in, too.  We would talk to him, and he'd open one eye, and grunt.

He never complained when he didn't feel well, when he was in pain, or when he was unhappy.

So as you can see, my Dad was pretty cool.  My brothers and sisters and I know just how lucky we were to have him as our Dad.  Everytime I go outside in the summer, and return home to see even more freckles on my face and arms, I think of Dad.  Thanks to him, I will never have Nicole Kidman skin.  But I don't care.  They're just reminders of who I am, and where I came from.  And most importantly, reminders of Dad.