“Hello? Is that you? This is me!”
When dad was alive and he would call, more often than not, that would be his opening line. On other occasions, he would simply say, “This is your dear old father.”
I found a photo of him cutting a birthday cake in 1961. I cannot figure out if the photo was taken on March 9th (his birthday) and developed in July or if this was a late celebration. At any rate, dad turned 44 in 1961, his face reflecting a very handsome man – husband to a pretty lady and father to two adorable children, ages 5 and 3-1/2.
This Easter weekend, mom made me think of dad by swearing. She recounted a story of years ago, before she met dad. Mom was working at the grocery store and people were lining up for day old bread. One of her co-workers was disgusted by these people and their excitement over the discounted price. Mom continues, “And then this guy says loudly…those sonofabitches…”
(Good thing I wasn’t drinking anything at the time, because I would have spit out liquid. Mom never swears.)
“Yeah, he called them sonofabitches, and then the manager fired him. Can you imagine?”
I could barely contain myself. Mom remained serious, until she realized I was engulfed in giggles. Then mom smiled herself and I thanked her for the day’s chuckle.
As I’ve mentioned in at least one prior post, dad had a dry, killer sense of humor. His smarty-pants retorts were fabulous. When brother’s girlfriend told 93-year old dad that her house remodeling would be done by December, his quick reply was, “What year?” (She had been the victim of a bad contractor who took forever to never finish the job.) When dad would make contact with me at work (after trying several times with no answer), his first question would be, “Were you in a meeting or were you in the bathroom again?” Dad’s other humorous events would include dressing up in crazy costumes for Halloween and stirring my adult drink with his finger while recounting how he just went to the bathroom.
Really, dad? Ewww.
Anyhow, mom’s humorous story reminded me of the man behind the birthday cake. He would have been 98 this past March. I still miss his voice, but I really miss his humor, the retorts, and the smart-aleck questions related to my bathroom habits at work. Mom tends to have a more reserved and serious demeanor and it’s the strange questions and stories brought on by her dementia that usually elicit a chuckle or two from her children.
When dad was living, he was one of the few that would laugh at his daughter’s stupid humor because he knew from where it came.
It was the alien in the spaceship.
In reality, dad was never sure if he made contact or if he was just being silly.
Now I’m being silly.
Happy Belated Birthday, Happy Easter, Happy Giggles to my Dear Old Dad.