Tuesday, April 17, 2007

It's Funny What You Remember

My dad loved peanut butter. He'd eat peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, peanut butter and applesauce sandwiches, peanut butter and cucumber sandwiches, peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches, and peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I'm not sure I ever saw him eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My mom told me once when I was a kid that there always had to be peanut butter in the house. Once, apparently, they ran out, and it wasn't pretty.

My dad put chocolate syrup on his Cheerios.

My dad liked to drink Squirt and Vernors and various flavors of Diet Rite, but not generally the original flavor.

My dad liked drinking grapefruit juice. He also liked tomato juice. And one of his favorite dishes was macaroni and tomato juice.

My dad was not the one who taught me how to drive a stick shift. This was probably a very smart decision on his part.

Once, when I was little, my dad picked me up in his office and I told him that some day I was going to be as tall as he was without him having to pick me up. I ended up about three or four inches taller than him.

Once, when I was in high school or college (I can't remember which), I walked in the door and my dad was sitting in his recliner, and he called me over, and wanted me to sit on his lap, despite the fact that I was at least his size and probably bigger. He didn't want anything else... just to have me sit on his lap again.

I played the piano because Dad's mom had played the piano. When I was in school, I played the oboe because Dad's long-ago girlfriend had played the oboe. In marching band, I played the tenor saxophone because Dad had played the tenor saxophone.

My dad loved dogs and hated cats. He probably wondered where he went wrong, since both of his adult children have cats in their homes.

When my dad would meet somebody, if that somebody said, "Nice to meet you!" Dad would say, "You don't know that yet."

The very first pair of socks that I knitted was intended for my dad. Shockingly, that first pair never got completed, so he never received them. However, the very first pair of fuzzy feet that I knitted were completed and gifted to him for his birthday a few years ago.

My friend Kimmie came across a bunch of knitting images a while back, and I chose this one to make a card for my dad in January 2006. The inside read, "Dear Dad, Today, in honor of you, I put down my knitting and danced with a goat." It was one of his favorites.

I miss you, Dad.
November 2, 1945 - April 17, 2006

(Thanks, Mom.)


Cathy said...

What a beautiful memoriam to your father. He sounds like a great guy. I love that he ate all those different kinds of peanut butter sandwiches! Don't stop remembering him, he is worthy of remembrance. My dad told me the only thing he ever flunked in school was knitting. He didn't make his squares. And in all the years I've been knitting (almost 30 now), I have never made him anything. Gotta go dig through the stash and find something worthy of him. Thanks for your memories. Fantastic post for a fantastic guy. God bless.

~Tonia~ said...

How sweet. I am sorry he is no longer with you in body. It is great that you have so many great memories of him.

Karen said...

What wonderful memories. I lost my mother 10 years ago, and I miss her. That makes my time with my father that much more precious.

Karen said...

What wonderful memories. Your dad had some strange combos with his peanut butter (some of them sound yucky...pickles). Did you ever finish that first pair?

Leone said...

Many many hugs

Anonymous said...

Hey, Sis, just trying to see if this goes through.
Love and Hugs -- Mom

MollyBeees said...

What a lovely entry. I lost my Daddy in 1999 and it gets a little easier each year although the actual date he passed away seems to get harder. You're doing the right thing by jotting down a few of the millions of things that made your Dad so special. ((Hugs))

Brenda said...

Brooke, you made me get a little teary and then I laughed so hard at the goat card that Katherine started laughing too. Today I shall dance with a goat in honor of your father. (Though instead of a goat it will probably be the dog or the husband.)

Kimmie said...

I am sorry I never got to meet your dad, but I feel like I know him a little through you and your quirky, vivid, everyday memories shared in person and on your blog. For the record, my dad has the same affinity for peanut butter and they do NOT run out at my parents house - that would be unthinkable. But my dad is not as much of a free spirit with his PB as your's: he has a strict no mixing policy (not even jelly graces his sandwiches) and it has to be Jiff Creamy (Crunchy would be sacreligious). He has taken a PB sandwich to work for lunch every day for the last 28 years and when my mom's out of town he has one for dinner also.

I guess we both have Peanut Butter in our blood!

Anonymous said...