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Father’ Day

  • Posted on June 20, 2010 at 3:08 pm
My Beautiful Parents

Mom and Dad

So I reminded my son that Father’s day was coming up.  He seemed perturbed as he always finds these holidays to be made up by business to generate money.  I personally think some people need to be reminded to stop and think about those important figures in their lives.  From my point of view I’d give anything to have another Father’s day as my dad passed away a few years ago.

I remember some of my brothers not liking Christmas because it was so commercial and frankly they didn’t want to have to spend money on gifts.  In a perfect world we would always remember those we love and we’d treat every day like it was special.  However, our world isn’t perfect.  We often take for granted those people we love and count on the most.  We always think they will be there when we need them.  Truthfully, we all have an expiration date.  We will not be around forever, so I think we need to appreciate each other while we are still around to do so.

Growing up in a large family created a lot of silent and noisy competition for parental affection.  It wasn’t done by my parents but by the sheer number of children all trying to feel special.  When my mom died I said I had lost my biggest cheerleader.  Mom always made me feel like I could accomplish anything I set my mind out to do.  I remember when she was rushed to the hospital for a hernia she had been carrying around for years.  Under the influence of morphine she proceeded to tell anyone who would listen to her about her many children and what their accomplishments were.  These accomplishments were everything from what they did for work to how many children they had.  In my mind mom and dad were a real team.  I didn’t actually think of one without thinking of the other.  It still goes on this way with me today.  How can I possibly separate the two most influential people in my life?  In my book they were both amazing people.

I often think about my mother and how she and my dad raised thirteen children.  Mother cooked for all of them.  When times got tough she went back to teaching and still cooked, cleaned and did everything else a mom would do with a family of two.  I remember her coming home from teaching and lying on the couch with a cold compress on her head.  I’m sure she was dog tired but she’d always get up and make a wonderful dinner for all of us to eat.  She always said there was always room for one more.  Dad joined mom in teaching.  I know this was a very hard thing for him to do.  He was a farmer through and through.  We left the farm even though my dad would still go back and work it in the summer.  My parents had two distinctly different lives they lived.  They were both the farm couple and the teacher couple.  In both lives they carried themselves with dignity.  They also became a part of the community they lived in.  They made contributions that may not be easily noticed but were surely remembered by many for years to come.

My parents always were faithful to their church.  They were Catholic and the church gave them comfort when they needed it most.  When my sister died shortly after her birth, my parents struggled with the loss of their first born female child.  I know the church gave them the faith they needed to sustain each other through their years of obvious pain for that loss.  When my mother died the church was there for my father holding his hand through his well worn rosary beads.

I remember my dad’s well worn hands with such love.  He worked so hard at everything he did.  In those summers when we would go back up north to the farm he also worked in Empire at Jimmy Johnson’s place.  He worked on repairing motors.  As a kid I never thought about my dad working but as an adult I know he worked his whole life, so hard, just so all of us could have a better life.  I remember when those well worn hands were caught in some farm machinery.  Mother had to change the bandages.  When I was home from college I had to do it a couple of times.  I remember the foul smell and it was so gross to look at.  My dad never complained.  He always took everything “like a man” as some would say.  My parents were both very strong people.  They lived through the depression and always lived their lives like you could never take the future for granted.  Times were tough especially for a family with fourteen children but many went on to college and all are living very productive lives.  What my parents accomplished in their life was really amazing to me.

When I was in my early twenties I went out on the snowmobile by myself.  That was a big mistake.  I still remember to this day my poor dad trudging through the nearly waist high snow to bail me out.  He was always there for us kids.  Needless to say I never went out again by myself.  My dad never complained about it.  I just never wanted to put him through that again.  Thinking back to when this happened, he must have been around seventy when he was pulling me out of the snow.  My dad was really strong.  He was built tough.  One year when I was doing the Traverse Bay Outdoor art show I called my dad panic stricken because I really needed more pots to sell.  I was having a great show.  I had fired a kiln load and it was still cooling.  My dad went over to my house and he unpacked my kiln, packed up the pots and brought them to me.  If you have never unloaded a huge gas fired kiln when it is still warm, this is quite a feat for any novice, let alone one that was probably in his early eighties when he was doing it!  Finding parking was tough but my dad got those pots to me.

I have been blessed to have such amazing parents.  Often when I was going up to visit my dad after mom died I’d usually stop and buy him some Baileys Irish cream.  I’d make some coffee and sit with dad and we’d have a nice warm drink mixed with stories of times long past and the warm feeling of a father, daughter love that is undeniable.  I miss those talks and the warm memories of our talks about mom.  My parents live on in my memories.  Sometimes I see glimpses of my mom in myself or my sister.  I don’t think I could hold a candle next to my mom though as I think she was as close to being a saint as she could be raising ten boys.  When I see some of my brothers I can see the physical remnants of my father, so many of them are starting to look more and more like dad.  My dad and mom were both generous, kind people.  They once took a hitch hiker clear up to the straits to help him out.  I think they thought he could be one of their kids.

I only wish I had another Father’s day or Mother’s day to visit with them again.  So on this day, I will remember my parents, my mom and my dad, and how they carried me in their joined heart, protecting me with their unquestionable parental love and I will have that Irish crème and toast my dad and mom with much love and gratitude for all the gifts that they so freely gave me.  God bless all dads and moms today and every day!