Daddy

Jim, Jimmy, Yimmy, Bozo, Doc, Grandpa ....

My favorite name for him is Daddy.

When I think of my dad, so many different things come to mind ....

the man who sat up until I got home at night

the man who taught me how to drive

the man who taught me how to shoot

the man who took me hunting

the man who dried my tears and calmed my fears

the man who adored my mom and loved me unconditionally

He's the man who always told me I didn't need to learn how to change a flat tire because he would always be around to do that for me ....

he couldn't be around when I had my first flat tire.

He's the man who told me I never needed to worry about painting the house because he would always be around to do that for me ....

he couldn't be around when the house needed to be painted.

He's the man who examined every boyfriend with a fine-toothed comb ....

none of them measured up to his standards (does any boyfriend ever really measure up to a dad's standards when it comes to his daughter?)

He's the man that took me horseback riding when I was young ....

riding horses was never one of his favorite activities

He's the man that called me the very second he walked in the door from a trip so I would know he was home.

He's the man that called every morning at 8:00am and said, "what's up?"

He's the man that took my mom and me camping every summer ....

would build campfires

would hike mountain trails

would sit with me late at night so we could listen to the bears raid the trash cans

He's the man that sat up with me all night in the car on the side of a mountain in North Carolina while we listened to Neil Armstrong take that first step on the moon.

He's the man that grief made unrecognizable the night my mom died.

My dad loved to tinker, and there was not anything he could not build or fix. He loved to work with wood. He loved to build wooden ship models ...

placing each individual plank in place

working on the model for months at a time

He loved to build furniture - making an entire bedroom suite for my 16th birthday.

He's the man who built the home I was born and raised in and live in today with my family.

He's the man who sat up at night worrying how he was going to make a $75 mortgage payment and still provide for his family when my mom quit work because she was pregnant with me.

My dad loved his only grandson.

My son remembers riding Grandpa's tractor to pick up gumballs - my son remembers sitting beside Grandpa in church - my son remembers helping Grandpa build wooden ship models - my son remembers going to WalMart with Grandpa and never having to spend his money because he was with Grandpa - my son remembers riding with Grandpa in his sporty car and Grandpa telling him he could have that car when he learned to drive - my son drives that very car today. My son was 6 when Grandpa died.

I wish my dad could see his only grandson today.

I wish my dad had been there when his only grandson went to his first prom.

I wish my dad had been there when his only grandson got his driver's license.

I wish my dad had been there when his only grandson graduated from high school.

I wish my son could have had his Grandpa longer.

My dad died in 1996, and I grieve as much for him today as I did that day. If I had one more day to spend with anyone in the world, I would spend it with my dad. I miss my dad more than I could ever put into words for anyone to understand.

Jim, Jimmy, Yimmy, Bozo, Doc, Grandpa ....
My favorite name for him is Daddy.