Memories of Dad

Dad was a hard-working man. He worked at a small trucking company, started there when he was a teenager, took a few years off to serve in the Korean conflict, and retired from the same company in his mid-60's. When we would see a Cook truck, we would always get excited and scream out "There's one of Dad's trucks"...even after we were adults and knew better. He was very dedicated to his job. Once he took a one week vacation and on that Friday, he fell off a ladder, breaking his leg and back...but was back at work the next Monday.

I was born during the last few months of Dad's US Navy service. I believe his Navy years were some of the best in his life. He remained friends with a few of his buddies (even named my 2 brothers after them) and told great stories of his time aboard ship.

Dad was quiet and calm. However, every once in a while, he would blow. I remember when we were camping once and he'd had enough of the "fussing". He yelled "ENOUGH!" and threw down his plate. He used enough force that the plastic fork bounced up and stuck one of my brothers in the neck. (Actually it was my Mom's home-made, very sticky syrup that caused the fork to stick.)

Dad was blunt...but in a funny way. I had a college friend who was very un-endowed...if you know what I mean. She was also VERY sensitive about it. She came home with me for a spring break and the 2nd day she was there, my Dad came home with a very large rubber band. He threw it at her and said, "Peg, put this around your waist when you eat...as much as you eat, I'm thinking this would make a difference in your figure." I almost crawled under the table. I didn't know how she would react to that...it could have put her into a "mood" for the next 6 months. But, she laughed until she cried and when we got back to school, she hung that rubber band on her bulletin board. It was there until we graduated.

Dad hated Avon. Mom sold it, Dad always had to go with her to "deliver". He would sit in the car while she delivered...which could take anywhere from 10 minutes to over an hour. He always had to stay up on the nights the order had to go in so that it would make the midnight postmark. (That meant he would leave the house at 11:45 pm, rushing to the post office to make the deadline.) He had more Avon cologne than a man would ever want. He would have been happier with a bottle of "Old Spice". He would have laughed (along with my brother and I) at the fact that his ashes were sealed in an Avon jar and when I went to the funeral home to pick them up, I carried the jar out in an Avon bag.

He was not one who cared about fashion. I cringe at some of the outfits he actually wore during the 70's...as well as the sideburns he felt he had to grow. And I was thrilled when he discovered jeans during his retirement years.

Dad had a nickname for me. He very rarely called me by my name. He nicknamed me "Gertrude" (ouch) when I was very little. I was 2 years old and started crooning loudly and dancing along with someone on the radio named Gertrude Arbusinger (or at least that's the story he told me). So, for as long as I can remember, he called me "Gert". No one else ever called me that...but even when I moved away from home, he would answer the phone with "Hey Gert, how's it going?"

Dad wasn't openly emotional. There weren't a lot of "I love you's" spoken...but it never had to be spoken. It was there and NEVER doubted. He worked a lot when we were kids, so there was a lot of time that Dad wasn't really around to play ball, etc. But when Zack came along, that totally changed. He played ball with Zack, took Zack to work with him, came to my house in the mornings to get Zack up and off to school (because of my school and job commitments)...they were best friends. I am so happy that Zack had that time with Dad.

Dad lied to me twice (that I know of). The first was about my beloved dog "Smitty". I was 4 and Dad told me that Smitty ran away. He even walked me around the block looking for Smitty when I said I wanted to go find him. I didn't find out until I was 16 that Smitty had to be put down because he was very sick.

The second lie was that he was going to live to be 84. I don't know why he chose that age...but he didn't make it. Today would have been his 78th birthday.

We miss you Dad...ever single day.