Happy St, Patricks Day and Memories

It's twenty two years today since my dad passed. Six weeks after my daughter was born. He died on St. Patrick's day. Born in Scotland, with an Irish Mother, Dad loved to party. What better day for him to go, he couldn't have planned it better himself. The Cancer was becoming unbearable, we'd all been praying he'd go fast. It was a sunny day when I got the expected call, I ran to the record player dropped the needle on John Lennon's Imagine, and weeped the whole way through. It's still my favorite song, and was such a comfort that day! Playing in the background it Neil Youngs version.

Here are a few memories I still have of my dad!

He would sit and listen to me play the piano for hours.
I could tell him absolutely anything.We had many intimate conversations.
Much of my wisdom is born from his advice.
I took classical piano,dad bought me my first modern piano book at ten, I still have it.
He also bought me my first extra thick coloring book when I had my appendix out at eight.
I hit him in the head with a golf club while he was teaching me to golf.
He never even got mad.
He always brought home full size chocolate bars to dole out at Halloween
even though we had a modest income.
He whistled when he put up the Christmas lights. Or when he was cleaning the house.
He cleaned the house every Saturday while mom was working.
He always drove me and picked me up from extra curricular activities,
he waited patiently
Because I was such a mature eight year old he felt it necessary
to inform me about sex early.
He first suggested my mother get me a bra
because she was in denial about my development.
He had better parenting skills than mom, we automatically obeyed him
because he was more reasonable.
He drove me to high school almost everyday,
I proudly hugged and kissed him in front of all my peers.
My dad was a pleasant man, kind to everyone,
but said he would protect me at all costs, I believed him.
He was very athletic and watched many sports.
He curled, golfed, bowled, fished, skated, swam, played shuffle board and darts.
He was never much of a traveler or a gambler, where as mom was.
Dad played the mouth organ by ear.
His favorite songs in this order were Stardust, Donkey Serenade, Christmas Song, and Mona Lisa. We always sang those songs together.
He used to sing every morning when he was young, I was to be named Mona Lisa.
He didn't like the name so he stopped singing the song.
He danced with my on his feet, then taught me how to ball room dance.
He was the best dancer at any party, women adored him, he really enjoyed talking with women, but loved my moms company best!
He adored music and it played in the kitchen every morning.
I never heard him swear, except for a few damns.
He never complained about food and ate whatever mom made,
except he disliked eggs for dinner.
He ate a two soft boiled eggs with toast almost every morning.
He made many different types of wine. Even apple, which was like vinegar.
He loved dogs, and had carrier pigeons when he was a kid.
He used to cliff dive when he was young.
My friends loved my dad too, he was a very fair man.
He took the family camping once a year.
At fifteen he kicked his own dad out of the house for being abusive to his mother.
He love to play bridge, always played cards with me, taught me crib, and bridge.
He never bought my mother anything extravagant,
but would surprise her by laying a new floor, or tiling the bathroom.
He built her a house from a book.
Later he built her a beauty salon in our home.
He built me my own playhouse with a dutch door, it matched the house he built.
Seemed he was always painting the inside of the house.
Dad ran after a kid that bullied us, he was so fast even we were shocked.
He had a garden and a boat, and a beautiful singing voice.
He was agnostic, beleived if you were a good person that's all that mattered.
Well for that era, he was a good husband, a great dad, and that's all that did matter!