AGAIN!

There's nothing like having a dad that will play with you.  No doubt many of us can recall fleeting memories of our dad's swinging them on their shoulders; playing catch; or racing them down the street.  While its the same for myself I also don't have one particular memory of my dad playing with me that stands out.  All the same here are a few...

I can remember being no older than five, coming home from ballet practice and running to a swing - that my dad constructed himself with a piece of think wood and two strong lines of rope - and having him push me in my tutu as I'd scream with delight, "HIGHER!"

I can remember - vaguely - being a toddler and one of my favorite things to do with my dad was having him do, "one, two, threeeeeee."  More explanation I know.  Whenever I felt a little roughly and playful, and we were in the living room, my dad might indulge me by laying on his back; legs bent and slightly elevated; I'd proceed to use his feet as a toddler roller-coaster chair, and his hands as my handle bars.  He's say "one," swing me up slightly; "two," swing me up slightly again; "THREEEEEEE," and swing me up, over his body, and I'd do a full flip and land on my feet; before saying: "AGAIN!"

I can remember when our family would be out on a family day trip (be it Disneyland, the park, or a family shing dig), and my young fussy self would get tired; he'd hoist me up on his shoulders.  All of a sudden my feet didn't hurt anymore and I had a 6"2' birds eye view of the world.  BLISS!

I can remember other times, my play time with my dad, would be as simple as being in the front or back yard and taking my dad's hands as he's swing me round and round, as he turned round and round.  Dizzy and grassy, I'd still insist in a fumbled saunter: "AGAIN!"

I can remember when he and I were more or less feeling silly, I'd sit on his lap as he'd use his hand as a mock "spider." We both referred to it as the "tickle monster," and the tickle monster would - as you'd expect - tickle me as I'd squeal and squirm, laugh and giggle in his lap and in his arms.

Sometimes it really is the simple things.  

"I Have a Respect For..."

As of lately, I’ve had a couple of conversations with a couple of individuals regarding my grieving of my father’s death.  Not knowing each other, they both suggested I shift my thinking to the memories I have of my dad; instead of focusing on missing him.  While, I know the physical separation of my dad will be something I will likely deal with for some time, I’ve decided to take my friends up on this advice.

    

When I was a young girl, truthfully, my dad wasn’t emotionally available; BUT, looking back I know he did love me and my siblings dearly.  In one sense, my dad projected his fear of heights, and the natural elements on me and my siblings growing up.  This was evident on many a beach day trips with my mom’s extended family.  My older cousins, Matt and Luke, as well as my older sister and I would compete with each other on who can go out further than the others in the waves of the ocean.  Competitions always, without fail, ended quickly and abruptly, as the hollers of my dad’s voice would reach our young ears as soon as we were waist deep in the ocean.  All the while, Matt and Luke, are waiting in the water, far further out than Katie and I, snickering and taunting us that, once again, they beat us! 

Another time, our family took a family road trip (which was customary every summer growing up) to the Grand Canyon! 

 ***Just as some background information: my younger brother Joey, was taking Tae Kwon Do; and for those of you who know Joe, just keep in mind his difficulty in discretion. ***  

Well, after a long drive to the rim of the canyon, we all were eager to stretch our legs, and for us kiddos , we were thrilled to lean over the railing of the mile deep hole in the ground and do our own oohs and aahhs.  Being a protective dad who “had a respect for heights,” he promptly began ushering the four of us back to a safe distance from the railing.  My sisters and I dutifully obeyed, but not with our own grumblings and groanings; but my brother wasn’t as willing or obedient!  After a fair amount of fussing to get my dad off of him, a sudden light flipped on Joey’s face – it was noticeable, and we all saw it.  

“Hiiiyaaaa!!!” 

Joey just numb chucked my dad right in his groin!  Instantly on his knees; on the ground; hands covering and holding his family jewels in a delayed protective action, and moaning (rightfully so), my brother, proudly, takes a few steps away, hands on his hips, states his Tae Kwon Do instructor taught him how to get away from people he didn’t want to be around!  Oie, my poor dad! 

While my dad didn’t always show his love and affection to me the way I wanted it; or thought I should receive it from a father, truly, I know he looked out for me and my siblings – in this case to his detriment. For that, I can reflect in sincere gratitude, and a few reminiscent chuckles.