Miss you Daddy

Was the first born and wasn't the boy he was hoping for yet he would love me just the same. Remember him getting me my first dog, Chesty, a German Shepherd, remember riding him like a pony! Everything dad gave me; pets, knowledge, LAUGHTER...we grew to LOVE! Especially his love for fun.

Chesty later bit the milk man and we had to give him away. In those days they would deliver milk right to your door, parents didn't want the milk to sour so the containers were kept on the back porch. He was just protecting me and the man who he bit didn't care about this or the "family pet". Remember at the age of three, Dad giving a piece of his mind to him, but the milkman took things one step further and "the police" made us give up that dog.

Dad told me the "vet would take good care of him".  Chesty got car sick and so did I the day we drove out to the "doggy doctor". "Will he come back home?" I remember the tears in his eyes. That night we watched Lassie together, it was during the credits, Lassie would put her paw up. As a child, would cry and cry because it reminded me of my Chesty, who even though he wanted to, could never come back home to me. 

Dad was Irish, flaming red head in his youth with flashing blue eyes. He had a love for music and also remember his 'hot temper'. He could make up his mind in an instant and not give a second thought to "consequences" which always amazed me how it didn't drive my mom to drink. Definitely could recognize this trait in me and have curbed my appetite to "bite ones head off" just as dad did in his living. We could see the change in his rivalry the day he laid prostrate on the floor of a cathedral making private vows to God. Dad always had a flair of making BIG decisions and becoming a Deacon in the church was one of them; just like when he enlisted in the army and became a Marine.

Around ten he taught me how to play gin rummy, fish and got me a gun for my 12th birthday. We belonged to a prestigious game and hunt club. Could catch rainbow trout and shoot with the best of them. Although put the gun to rest when I killed my first bird. It devastated me to see what was accomplished with my talent and vowed to God never to kill again. Looking into my friends eyes for understanding is when I heard;  "You're such a girl, go home and go play with your dollies".  That was the day when I discovered; "make fun of" was just like killing. Dad said "it's ok honey" and the gun disappeared.

Dad was a talented musician. In his youth he played in a band; clarinet, drums and piano. He knew one song by heart and when he played it was like magic. FUN would ERUPT! I rented a piano just for him and secretly to see if I had the talent to play; sadly never grasped it. But made sure that piano was nearby for those precious tunes to burst forth, yup he was the boogie- woogie bugle boy of Company B! 

Music helped to dispel the magnitude of the moment. Whether it be celebrating a birthday, graduation, birth of a child, child leaving the nest when you thought it was NOT appropriate, the celebration, honoring choices without judging, made everything right. It was the letting go and standing true to what you knew, even if it meant a lawful ordinance forced you to let go. This was part of the reveille, waking us up to the reason for the season and this to shall pass, even when your first love is taken away. R.I.P daddy. 

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. Aldous Huxley

Da-da, da-do-da-da

Da-da, da-do-da-da

Da-da, da-do-da-da

Da-da, da-do-da

 (click do-da if you want to see our family in action)