My dad is 78 today. That sounds old but when you see him and talk to him, you realize that it isn't very old. His hearing might be going, just a wee bit (although he claims everyone mumbles) and his eyes are still pretty good. One of his hips has been replaced and is standing up to his active lifestyle just fine.
The brain is also as sharp as it was years ago as is his sense of humour.
Michele has written some great memories of dad already. I'd like to add a few more.
The renovations were such a blast for me. There were always people around helping dad and mom, Yvonne and I would make sure there was coffee made and fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies. Nobody could make them like we could. One of my most vivid remembrances is of dad, upstairs, feeding John, downstairs, some wire or something and the two of them hollering back and forth.
Dad: "DO YOU SEE IT?"
John: "NO. WAIT. I THINK I SEE IT!
Dad: "START PULLING!"
John: "I CAN'T REACH IT! OH. NOW I'VE GOT IT!"
Dad: STOOOOOP! YOU JUST PULLED IT OUT OF MY HANDS!"
John: "HEY DAD! IT'S REALLY EASY TO PULL NOW!
Or something like that anyway. Whenever Wes needs to do something like that with someone here, I am immediately brought back to Saturdays, when I was young.
As he renovated our home room by room, dad insulated everything he could, long before other people recognized the importance of a well insulated house. Usually it was pink fibreglass insulation but one day I remember him coming home with bags of something called vermiculite. Dad thought it would be a great way to insulate one of the outside walls that would have been hard to do with the batts. He poured bags of the stuff into an opening in the wall on the second floor and at one point commented that he was using more than he he had estimated. It wasn't much later that we discovered a huge pile of vermiculite on the basement floor. He had poured it right through the wall.
When I was in Grade 2, we had to tell our teacher what our dad did for a living. I didn't know so my teacher asked me what he could do. My response, "He fixes things."
The teacher asked me what kinds of things he fixed and I answered, as proud as a little girl could, "He fixes EVERYTHING!"
Dad could fix everything- from car engines, washers and dryers to slinky toys. He made us beds when we were small with a little half railing to keep us from falling out of bed in the night. I was so proud of those beds!
Dad never did a lot of cooking but on ocassion, maybe once a year, he would treat us to deep fried onion rings. We loved them! He has his specialties now-bean salad, succulent chicken on the spit and some other grilled foods. Had he been born in a different time, he would have spent alot more time in the kitchen. It is neat to see a man of his age experimenting with foods and cooking when most men his age are happy to remain out of the kitchen.
Dad owned his own business with a partner for many years. One day, he was talking about some guy who took 10% off the invoice that dad submitted. I was shocked that someone would do that and I asked dad what he was going to do about it. He simply said, "I'll just charge him 15% extra next time. I was impressed with the incredible wisdom of my dad.
He owned a business, worked very hard, but never got rich. One year he commented how one of his employees actually made more than he did that year. But I never sensed any bitterness from dad about that. When you spend 2 hours in an afternoon fixing an lonely old woman's toaster, you won't make much money. I think dad always recognized that there was more to life than money.
There's lots more I could say but for now, I'll leave you with a few "dadisms."
Ha Ha! It's the cat's meow!
I'm stiff as a doornail. (Actually, he only said this once but we have never let him forget it.)
It'll put hair on your chest.
Mama mia!
Well you're quite the Speedy Gonsales.
The brain is also as sharp as it was years ago as is his sense of humour.
Michele has written some great memories of dad already. I'd like to add a few more.
The renovations were such a blast for me. There were always people around helping dad and mom, Yvonne and I would make sure there was coffee made and fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies. Nobody could make them like we could. One of my most vivid remembrances is of dad, upstairs, feeding John, downstairs, some wire or something and the two of them hollering back and forth.
Dad: "DO YOU SEE IT?"
John: "NO. WAIT. I THINK I SEE IT!
Dad: "START PULLING!"
John: "I CAN'T REACH IT! OH. NOW I'VE GOT IT!"
Dad: STOOOOOP! YOU JUST PULLED IT OUT OF MY HANDS!"
John: "HEY DAD! IT'S REALLY EASY TO PULL NOW!
Or something like that anyway. Whenever Wes needs to do something like that with someone here, I am immediately brought back to Saturdays, when I was young.
As he renovated our home room by room, dad insulated everything he could, long before other people recognized the importance of a well insulated house. Usually it was pink fibreglass insulation but one day I remember him coming home with bags of something called vermiculite. Dad thought it would be a great way to insulate one of the outside walls that would have been hard to do with the batts. He poured bags of the stuff into an opening in the wall on the second floor and at one point commented that he was using more than he he had estimated. It wasn't much later that we discovered a huge pile of vermiculite on the basement floor. He had poured it right through the wall.
When I was in Grade 2, we had to tell our teacher what our dad did for a living. I didn't know so my teacher asked me what he could do. My response, "He fixes things."
The teacher asked me what kinds of things he fixed and I answered, as proud as a little girl could, "He fixes EVERYTHING!"
Dad could fix everything- from car engines, washers and dryers to slinky toys. He made us beds when we were small with a little half railing to keep us from falling out of bed in the night. I was so proud of those beds!
Dad never did a lot of cooking but on ocassion, maybe once a year, he would treat us to deep fried onion rings. We loved them! He has his specialties now-bean salad, succulent chicken on the spit and some other grilled foods. Had he been born in a different time, he would have spent alot more time in the kitchen. It is neat to see a man of his age experimenting with foods and cooking when most men his age are happy to remain out of the kitchen.
Dad owned his own business with a partner for many years. One day, he was talking about some guy who took 10% off the invoice that dad submitted. I was shocked that someone would do that and I asked dad what he was going to do about it. He simply said, "I'll just charge him 15% extra next time. I was impressed with the incredible wisdom of my dad.
He owned a business, worked very hard, but never got rich. One year he commented how one of his employees actually made more than he did that year. But I never sensed any bitterness from dad about that. When you spend 2 hours in an afternoon fixing an lonely old woman's toaster, you won't make much money. I think dad always recognized that there was more to life than money.
There's lots more I could say but for now, I'll leave you with a few "dadisms."
Ha Ha! It's the cat's meow!
I'm stiff as a doornail. (Actually, he only said this once but we have never let him forget it.)
It'll put hair on your chest.
Mama mia!
Well you're quite the Speedy Gonsales.
Finally, here is a picture of dad and Michele. Isn't it lovely?
Happy birthday dad!
