I have joined up with Mommy's Piggy Tales to share the stories of my youth - or at least what stands out to me in my memories. So be watching on Thursdays for the next 13 weeks (the first two weeks are done...you can find them in prior postings) for the story of my life as I remember.
I was thinking earlier today though about my dad (duh, it's Father's Day - of course I'm going to think about him!). I've been blessed when it comes to my dad and the dad-like figures in my life. I wanted to record for myself (and for my baby girl when she's older) my first memories of my dad and even my grandpas, both my mom's dad and my dad's dad.
There are two distinct memories of my dad that I keep in my head. I'm not sure how old I am in either one but I think I'm a bit older in the second memory, maybe five- or six-years-old.
In my first memory we are out in the yard behind Mrs. Bailey's house and we are just playing around. I know there were dandelions out, so it must have been spring and probably the weekend as well since he was at home with us and not at school. I don't remember my brother being there, so I'm thinking I was very young - two-years-old or just older than that and he wasn't outside with us. In this memory I'm plucking dandelions and he grabs one and swipes it under my chin to make it yellow. And that's about it to the memory. I think we even have pictures of this day, so maybe I just remember the pictures but it is in my mind as something I really remember taking part of.
The second memory of my dad isn't such a good one... My mom babysat for other kids and it involves Tammy, one of the girls who was at our house a lot and the only one I still to this day consider my "sister". I don't remember exactly what was going on or if it was early morning or late afternoon but I do know that my dad was leaving the house (he walked from our house to the school where he taught if the weather allowed...so it was morning when he was leaving or afternoon when he was going back for a sport practice or game) and I had yelled at my dad that I hated him. I honestly don't remember why I said it or what had happened to make me say it but I remember Tammy and I both got sent to separate rooms (she to mine and I to my parents) and I cried and cried and cried because I felt so horrible for even saying it.
To this day it makes me sick to my stomach to think I yelled that at my dad. And I'm guessing that he probably doesn't even remember this happening (although, as far as I can remember this is the only and only time I ever told my dad that). The comment also had no truth behind it. I love my daddy...he'll always be my one and only daddy.
As for my grandpas - for my maternal grandma, my earliest memory is standing between him and my grandma in their big 15-passenger van as we were headed to Kentucky. I don't remember puking in his pocket but apparently I did! I've heard the story a hundred times too. And I remember him playing his guitar too. Man could he sing! My earliest memory of my paternal grandpa is when I was older...probably seven- or eight-years-old and he kept calling me Windy because I did such a good job at blowing up the beach toys at the beach! He actually called me Windy for many, many years - every time we went to the beach!
And now...the daddy that is in my life daily is my husband. He is an *amazing* daddy to our baby girl. He is patient and nurturing and has a teaching way about him. Every little thing they do becomes a learning experience for her. He is her protector and comforter. I couldn't ask for a better daddy for her.
Who is your dad to you or your dad-like figures?