“Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.”

This is my annual Father’s Day post. It brings back a rush of memories every time I read it. My dad was one of a kind in the best of all possible ways.

I have so many memories of growing up, of family trips and my dad trying to whack at us from the front seat and never succeeding, of playing whist in the kitchen, with the teams being my mom and me against my dad and brother, of Sunday rides, of going to the drive-in and the beach and of being loved by my dad. Memories of my dad are with me always, but today my memories are all of my dad, and my heart is filled to the brim with missing him. When I close my eyes, I see him so clearly.

On a warm day so he’d be sitting on the front steps with his coffee cup beside him while reading the paper. He’d have on a white t-shirt and maybe his blue shorts. He’d wave at the neighbors going by in their cars. They all knew him and would honk back. He loved being retired, and we were glad he had a few years of just enjoying life.

He was the funniest guy, mostly on purpose but lots of times by happenstance. We used to have Dad stories, all those times when we roared and he had no idea why. He used to laugh along with us and ask, “What did I say? What did I say?” We were usually laughing too hard to tell him. He was a good sport about it.

I know you’ve heard this before, but it is one of my favorite Dad stories. He, my mom and I were in Portugal. I was driving. My dad was beside me. On the road, we had passed many piggyback tandem trucks, all hauling several truck loads behind them. On the back of the last truck was always the sign Vehiculo Longo. We came out of a gas station behind one of those. My father nonchalantly noted, “That guy Longo owns a lot of trucks.” I was laughing so hard I could barely drive and my mother, in the back seat, was doubled over in laughter.

My father wasn’t at all handy around the house. Putting up outside lights once, he gave himself a shock which knocked him off his step-ladder. He once sawed himself out of a tree by sitting on the wrong end of the limb. The bookcase he built in the cellar had two shelves, one on the floor and the other too high to use. He said it was lack of wood. When painting the house once, the ladder started to slide, but he stayed on his rung anyway with brush in hand. The stroke of the paint on the house followed the path of his fall. Lots of times he set his shoe or pant leg on fire when he was barbecuing. He was a big believer in lots of charcoal lighter fluid.

My father loved games, mostly cards. We played cribbage all the time, and I loved making fun of his loses, especially if I skunked him. When he won, it was superb playing. When I won, it was luck. I remember so many nights of all of us, including aunts and uncles, crowding around the kitchen table playing cards, especially hi-lo jack. He loved to win and we loved lording it over him when he lost.

My father was a most successful businessman. He was hired to turn a company around and he did. He was personable and funny and remembered everyone’s names. Nobody turned him down.

My father always went out Sunday mornings for the paper and for donuts. He never remembered what kind of donut I like. His favorite was plain. He’d make Sunday breakfast when I visited: bacon, eggs and toast. I can still see him standing over the stove with a dish towel over his shoulders. He always put me in charge of the toast.

If I ever needed anything, I knew I could call my father. He was generous. When we went out to eat, he always wanted to pay and was indignant when we one upped him by setting it up ahead of time that one of us paid. One Christmas he gave us all $500.00, not as a gift but to buy gifts.

My father left us when he was far too young. It was sudden. He had a heart attack. I had spoken with him just the day before. It was pouring that day, and I told him how my dog Shauna was soaked. He loved that dog and told me to wipe his baby off. I still remember that whole conversation. I still miss my father every day.

Explore posts in the same categories: Musings

Tags: , ,

Both comments and pings are currently closed.

12 Comments on ““Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.””

  1. olof1 Says:

    I love these stories 🙂

    have a great day!

  2. Bob Says:

    My father drove me nuts until the end. My dad was the most frugal man I ever met. His biggest fear was that he would out live his money and become a burden on his children. He had a bumper sticker that read, “I’m spending my children’s inheritance”. He didn’t make it, but lived until 87. He’s been gone 13 years and every Father’s Day I think about him. The rest of the year I’m too busy trying not to become him. 🙂

    • katry Says:

      My father was generous but frugal in odd ways but not ways which affected us. To us he was generous. He would buy cheap shoes for himself because he put a limit on how much shoes should cost.

      I love your last line!

  3. Bob Says:

    Today the skies are cloudy with a chance of rain to keep the temperature down. When I arrived home yesterday I was surprised that it was a humid but cool 87. I haven’t been outside because my family is leaving me alone. A very nice Father’s Day gift. I don’t wear ties any longer.

    • katry Says:

      I stopped giving ties when I was older. I gave him nice shirts for work or casual pants or slippers from L.L.Bean. He always said not to get him anything.

      We will get to the 70’s today but without the help of the sun. The rain has stopped but the day is gray and damp.

  4. Coleen Says:


    I once heard that, if you tell stories about them, people never truly die.

    I always love when you run this post.

    Have a great day!



    • katry Says:

      My father remains a bright spot in my memories, lit as if in neon.

      This post makes hime so close!!

      Waving from wet, damp cape cod!

  5. Hedley Says:

    We assembled at Addison Eatery in Midtown, all of us from the Prince to my children who just aren’t children but will always be so. I got very nice cards, and some music but the biggest gift was for us to all together. Time is precious and I was on the way to Metro to put my son and his girlfriend on the plane back to Orlando.

    Families never stay the same, they contract and they expand. After an extended period we are growing again. The wedding lies ahead and more to follow. “There could never be a Father who loves his Daughter more than I love you”

  6. Morpfy Says:


    2 Teaspoons butter
    1 Teaspoon olive oil
    6 Boneless chicken breasts
    1/2 Cup chicken stock
    1 Package ranch seasoning mix
    1/2 Cup basil pesto, drain excess oil
    1/2 Cup sun dried tomatoes, drained and chopped
    1/4 Cup half & half
    Print Shopping List
    Spray the inside of your Crock-Pot® slow cooker with a non stick cooking spray.
    Heat a large skillet, add butter and olive oil.
    When hot, add chicken breasts; sear on both sides for 3 to 4 minutes per side.
    Remove from heat.
    Place chicken into the bottom of the Crock-Pot® slow cooker.
    Add stock and sprinkle with ranch seasoning mix.
    Top with pesto and sun dried tomatoes.
    Cover; cook on High for 3 to 4 hours or on Low for 6 hours.
    When done, stir in half & half.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: