My Father
My father was quiet. My Father was strong and he was gentle. He was an unassuming role model. He was respected by those who ever met him. He was a teacher with even knowing it.
While I was growing up I thought my dad was a stiff necked old jerk. As a teen I thought he was so far out of it that he didn't have a clue. I hated him when he took my car away and grounded me for ---gasp---skipping school. I was furious when he cracked down on me and actually made me study and get good grades and graduate from high school.
I thought I was getting even with him when I enlisted in the Air Force and left home. I completely missed the look of satisfaction and pride on his face.
After 8 hears in the service I was amazed at how smart and wise he had become. I miss him.
He had a way of looking at things and finding humor in the most ridiculous things, like teenagers with spiked hair and so many body piercings they set off metal detectors from a block away. Instead of sneering and looking down on them he would make some funny remark and act as if he knew that the kid would one day be a CEO of some high tech company. One of his favorite past times was to set in the Boulder Mall (the center of the universe for nuts, whacko's and crazies) and just watch the show. He called it a free circus side show.
My father respected women, but absolutely doted on my mother. According to him she walked on water, hung the moon and never ever did any wrong. This attitude made him even more attractive to other women. He had women practically throwing themselves at him. Like water off a ducks back he just ingored them. He used to say "why go out for hamburger when I have steak and champagne at home".
My father never pulled his punches. He would tell it like it was. If someone was being rude or an ass he would look them in the eye and tell them they were an ass. Yes, on more than one occasion he looked me in the eye and told me I was being an ass. He had a nick name given to him by his co-workers in the Air Traffic Control Center. They called him Iron Head or Old Iron Head.
When I went to work for the FAA and moved closer to home we started to spend more time together. We played golf together. Golf with my dad was like an 18 hole, 3 hour stand-up comedy show. (More about that in some future post)
We went fishing together. Many quiet hours spent together dissecting and curing the woes of the world. He was a sailor and was pleased when I learned to sail. But he was ecstatic when I sold my sailboat and bought a fishing boat. I kept the boat on Lake Granby west of Denver and made him his own set of keys so he could take her out anytime he felt like it.
We became very close when we were building his retirement home. Many thumbs hammered, many knots and bruises later we had a beautiful home for him and my mother. They designed it together with family and grandkids in mind. They were going to spend their golden years there.
My father died less than 6 months after moving into his dream home.
June 18th is Fathers Day. A day of the year where sons and daughters buy funny cards, ugly ties and useful gift certificates for their fathers. I don't do that any more, but I honor my father every single day of the year by trying to be what he was.
While I was growing up I thought my dad was a stiff necked old jerk. As a teen I thought he was so far out of it that he didn't have a clue. I hated him when he took my car away and grounded me for ---gasp---skipping school. I was furious when he cracked down on me and actually made me study and get good grades and graduate from high school.
I thought I was getting even with him when I enlisted in the Air Force and left home. I completely missed the look of satisfaction and pride on his face.
After 8 hears in the service I was amazed at how smart and wise he had become. I miss him.
He had a way of looking at things and finding humor in the most ridiculous things, like teenagers with spiked hair and so many body piercings they set off metal detectors from a block away. Instead of sneering and looking down on them he would make some funny remark and act as if he knew that the kid would one day be a CEO of some high tech company. One of his favorite past times was to set in the Boulder Mall (the center of the universe for nuts, whacko's and crazies) and just watch the show. He called it a free circus side show.
My father respected women, but absolutely doted on my mother. According to him she walked on water, hung the moon and never ever did any wrong. This attitude made him even more attractive to other women. He had women practically throwing themselves at him. Like water off a ducks back he just ingored them. He used to say "why go out for hamburger when I have steak and champagne at home".
My father never pulled his punches. He would tell it like it was. If someone was being rude or an ass he would look them in the eye and tell them they were an ass. Yes, on more than one occasion he looked me in the eye and told me I was being an ass. He had a nick name given to him by his co-workers in the Air Traffic Control Center. They called him Iron Head or Old Iron Head.
When I went to work for the FAA and moved closer to home we started to spend more time together. We played golf together. Golf with my dad was like an 18 hole, 3 hour stand-up comedy show. (More about that in some future post)
We went fishing together. Many quiet hours spent together dissecting and curing the woes of the world. He was a sailor and was pleased when I learned to sail. But he was ecstatic when I sold my sailboat and bought a fishing boat. I kept the boat on Lake Granby west of Denver and made him his own set of keys so he could take her out anytime he felt like it.
We became very close when we were building his retirement home. Many thumbs hammered, many knots and bruises later we had a beautiful home for him and my mother. They designed it together with family and grandkids in mind. They were going to spend their golden years there.
My father died less than 6 months after moving into his dream home.
June 18th is Fathers Day. A day of the year where sons and daughters buy funny cards, ugly ties and useful gift certificates for their fathers. I don't do that any more, but I honor my father every single day of the year by trying to be what he was.
posted by Rob | 2:27 PM
6 Comments:
Wow, Rob. You brought tears to my eyes. I'm sure, were he still with us today, your dad would be very proud of the man you became. And from the endless stories I've heard over and over again from the family, you did a pretty good job of becoming the man he was.
Love you.
Great post - seeing a man's heart - thats rare! You being a Dad would know best that gifts dont have to be wrapped, but can rather be walked out every day. As you do. As does my husband. His father instilled so many character traits in him that are a blessing to the kids and I and his boss, etc. today. Tells me what you guys do is awfully important. xoxo
Wow, Dad! This was so wonderful to read. I never got to meet Grandpa, but I feel like I know him because of all the stories you tell about him. If you are anything at all like him, I am sure he was an amazing person and a wonderful father.
what a great post, Uncle Rob. I loved it.
I really widh I could have met him, Daddy. This was wonderful...you need to tell more stories about Grandpa. Would he really be disappointed that I eat ketchup on my pork chops?
No krissy he would not be dissappointed about ketsup on pork chops. It just wouldn't have happened.
To all...He was the person who inspired the term "the rock" and the true discription of patriarch
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