A Father & His Baby Girl – A post from my sister

The number of stories you could tell about Dad are truly countless, so I’ll try to just hit the most memorable ones in my mind.

When I was in kindergarten, Dad was in between jobs as it was ruled that polygraphing people for employment was no longer permitted.  He would pick me up from school, then we would go home, and we’d have to watch Perry Mason for what felt like hours.  I remember thinking how boring it was, but it was our daily tradition and holds precious memories now.  During that time, he would also let me play hairdresser, so I would comb his hair as he lay in the recliner.  One day, I got ambitious and wanted to up my hairdressing skills, so I decided cutting his stark black hair would also be a good idea.  Man oh man, did I get in big trouble!  Thankfully, he was gracious about it, and all was forgiven.

We often enjoyed family vacations in the summer, and we always drove no matter where we were going.  Dad refused to let anyone else drive even when he was exhausted.  You knew he was tired because he’d start rubbing the back of his head over and over.  That was our surefire way to know it was time to pull over, but there was no way he was going to admit that he was sleepy.  Sometimes on our long trips, Dad would get pulled over.  I can remember a specific time as we traveled out east and he passed someone on the shoulder of the road although I can’t remember why.  It was always Dad’s thing to get out of the car when a policeman pulled him over.  As he got out of the car and the policeman told him what he’d done wrong, he said, “Oh we’re allowed to do that in Illinois.  Sir, I haven’t had a ticket since October 21, 1976.”  (I may have gotten the exact date wrong, but it was definitely in October and definitely in the 70s.  This was Dad’s FAVORITE line to pull with cops, and we heard that story OFTEN!)  Oh, Dad’s driving.  I could talk about it for days.  Whenever we’d get out of the car after reaching our destination, he’d lock it and then he would have to check every door to make sure it was locked.  After his Alzheimer’s diagnosis but before his license was revoked, he’d drive Mom’s Cadillac which digitally showed the speed you were going.  He’d have to have it EXACTLY on the speed limit.  As frustrating as that was, I’m glad he got to enjoy driving for as long as he did.

Living with Mom and Dad and then conveniently buying a house only a half a block away, I have so many precious memories, because we spent a ton of time together.  I’ll always fondly remember playing Euchre with my grandpa, grandma, mom, and dad in Collison for hours on end.  No matter how many games Dad lost, we’d have to play until he won…even if that meant we were playing until 1 o’clock in the morning.  His famous saying was, “You’re only as good as your last game.  This is for the championship of Collison.”  What sweet memories were held around that table.  Even after his diagnosis, he loved sitting around the table playing cards, and he could actually play and enjoy for much longer than we thought he’d be able.

More recently, my husband, Dan, and I along with Dad and Mom would enjoy double dates to Stagecoach, a local restaurant in Gifford, and then to Lenny’s, an ice cream shop in Gifford.  We spent hours playing pinball at Lenny’s.  I can laugh just thinking about Dad hitting those buttons with such force that I’m positive he’s part of the reason the game was broken sometimes (Sorry, Ms. Mary!).  I am so thankful we took the time to go up there as often as we did and enjoy that time together.  I’ll never look at a pinball machine without thinking about Dad and his forceful fingers.

The absolute best memory I have of Dad after his diagnosis was him being able to read the scripture reading at my wedding on May 30, 2015.  I won’t lie when I say I was pretty nervous as I heard his voice waiver when he got up, but it wasn’t because he couldn’t do it.  It was because he was so moved by scripture, and that’s how he was my entire life.  He beautifully read Colossians 3:12-14, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

I am eternally grateful that God allowed me to meet my husband, get married, and have a precious baby girl all before Dad got extremely bad with his Alzheimer’s.  He was able to say “yes” to the man asking for my hand in marriage; he was able to say “I do” when asked who gives this woman to this man; he was able to hold Adelynn and sing her a sweet song; he was able to be Granddad to another little soul.

Dad would often hug me from behind and strongly rub my sternum as he’d say, “You’re a good ol’ girl.”  Well, Dad, I’ll continue being “a good ol’ girl,” so I can join you in your mansion.