What is your fondest memory of your Dad?
Mine gave me my own horse when I was 14 and I was so happy. He always did things to make all of us happy.
There are so many; however, one day I was being a little so-n-so, mum said, 'you wait until your father gets home and I tell him how you've been.' Anyway, dad duly returned from work, my mum said, 'Phil, talk to that boy will you?' He said, 'hello son how are you?'
He was always fair, and always doing things for us all and never worried when I went in the toolshed and made things for myself. Shock horror from the health and safety and something might happen nannies.
When visitng my dad in west Texas as a teenager, he would try to teach me things about cars in his auto repair shop. I can still hear him saying, "Son, I won't always be with you when.... " and he would give examples and show me. I did not learn much about that, but I still appreciate his efforts.
One of my favorites was when my family went to Ohio for my cousin's wedding. My father took me and all my cousins to a museum. After thirty minutes of being in the museum, my cousins looked at me and asked, "How do you stand this?". When my dad goes to museums, he runs around like a kid in a candy store. It's what he always does. As I've always gone with him, I've never really noticed how he acts in a museum. It was an interesting trip.
I will always remember him as the one who snatched me out of two accidental electrocutions when I was young. He saved me twice from those poorly insulated electrical wires.
About a week before my dad died, I came home from school and he was sitting in his rocking chair. I climbed up into his lap and we both feel asleep. I was 8 and I will never forget it; his warmth, the wonderful way he smelled. It all fixed in my mind.
When he went waterskiing sometimes he would let me ride on his shoulders while he skiied. I was 6 when he died, so those early memories are all I have.
My dad and I didn't have a close relationship, but I remember one time when I was about 4 he called me on the phone, pretending to be Santa. That memory is the one I like to think about. At the time, I thought he was Santa. Thinking back on it, it makes me happy that he did it.
When I was very little, before he died, I used to sit on his lap while he read a book or the newspaper and I just loved it... Obviously he didn't do much reading, because I couldn't bear to be still, but it was a nice quiet time and that's probably why I love reading so much...
I don't know if you would call this the fondest but.... When my brother and were young we were riding our bikes around Patrick AFB, my brother crashed into some bushes that had big thorns on them. One of the thorns broke off and lodged itself in my brother's leg. When we got home my dad worked and worked with tweezers and all kinds of things to get that thorn out but to no avail. Finally, he got up and went to the garage and got an empty baby food jar. He placed the jar in a pan of water and put it on the stove and heated the jar. Then he grabbed some wash cloths, an ice cube and the warm jar. He placed the mouth of the jar over the hole where the thorn was, wrapped the jar with the washcloth and pushed down, sealing the jar to my brothers leg. Then he rubbed the ice cube around the mouth of the jar where it was sealed to my brother's leg. The difference in heat caused a vacuum to form inside the jar and this vacuum sucked the thorn out of my brother's leg. I thought that was the coolest thing I had ever seen and I thought right then "My Dad can do anything". I still feel that way about him. Sorry that was so long.
My fondest memory of my dad was his outlook on life. I loved his attitude toward nearly everything and the edge of sarcasm he threw into it all. Yet his advice was always amazing and usually spot on. Really my fondest memory can't be picked out considering all my memories of my dad are my fondest. I'll never learn anything from anyone else as much as I did from my father.
by L a d y f a c e 9 years ago
It could be a holiday, vacation, birthday party, random family event, something that used to happen on a regular basis, anything at all.
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