One of the many things I've inherited from my Dad is a love of telling stories. It doesn't matter if it happened last week or 50 years ago, we both love to tell tales. Usually the same ones over and over. I also inherited his love of duct tape. Several years ago, me and my hubby lived in a house where we'd get wasps in the bathroom. We tried all sorts of things to get rid of them. I finally got my red duct tape out and taped all around the window and some spots that went up to the attic. No more wasps! I proudly share such tales with my Dad.
Another trait I inherited from my Dad is to keep everything cause you never know when you might need it. My Dad would come home from work and carry things to our giant shed. He kept boat motors even though we never had a boat. He had all sorts of things out there--van benches, mowers that didn't work, et cetera. Also like my Dad, I use things until they are unusable. I regularly sleep in shirts from the early 90's. Our tv is almost old enough to vote though the color is a little pale and it sometimes won't turn off. I'm currently wearing mismatched slipper socks. I have few matching pairs, but I wear them anyways.
When I moved halfway across the country in my mid 20's, my Dad sent me off with some of his tools and a huge Reader's Digest home repair book from the early 1970's. I still use it! As luck would have it, my hubby and I bought a house built in the 1950's so the book is up to date for our needs.
My Dad rarely shows anger. He's very easy going--an oddity in our family. The rest of us tend to be boisterous and loud. When it was time for me to learn to drive, he took me on marathon lessons over the weekend for hours and hours. Early on, a mosquito landed on the windshield. I sprayed it with wiper fluid and turned the wipers on. I focused on the mosquito instead of the road. I lost control and the car spun around and we ended up in a ditch. Or at least that's how I remember it. It was quite possibly not that dramatic--I might have just drifted off the road. Anywho, I was quite scared and upset--believing we had almost died. I expected my Dad to drive us home, but he quietly informed me to get back on the road and continue on. By they way, to this day if my hubby says "hey look" I look over and inadvertently steer in that direction. We've drifted to the shoulder on several occasions.
Some of my favorite memories include when he taught me to swim when we moved to Florida when I was about 8. He also took me fishing when I was young. He would get so excited when I caught tiny fish. I don't think I ever caught one of edible size. I inevitably thought I caught something huge and couldn't pull it in. I'd give my Dad my pole and he'd try to pull it in and would break the fishing line. He'd quietly inform me, I'd "caught" a log or some other huge thing in the lake. I have many fond memories of my Dad resting his hand on my head as we walked around places like Disney World. I thought of it as me wearing his hand as a hat. My Dad also tickled my feet as a child. I have no idea how it started, but I loved it!
Him and my Mom attended all of the performances when I was in band. And believe me, there were a lot of performances. Even after working such long days, he'd come to the football games on Friday and take tons of pics of me marching. One year, my Mom and I got him a red satin jacket that said "Band Daddy" on it. He wore it often even though we lived in Florida and only rarely had weather needing a jacket.
Finally, I find my Dad's devotion, love, and loyalty to my Mom inspiring. I did not realize how rare it was until I was an adult. I am so thankful to have him as my father.