a few memories of my dad

I purchased a new snow brush for the car today..... I use a push-broom.... and the old, wooden one broke.... (my Dad bought that old, wooden push-broom back around 1968.... thanks Dad, I know you did not intend it to be used to clean snow off of cars, but it served me well for many years.)

I posted the above paragraph on a Facebook post about a predicted snow storm today.  I reminded me of the good things, from my Dad, that I have been thankful for lately.  While Dad did not intend that push-broom to be used to clean snow off of cars, I think he would appreciate that I put it to good use. You see, I had a Subaru wagon, and I wanted to clear snow off the roof of the car before putting it inside the garage.  I think that my Dad would have appreciated the ingenuity of that.  Over the years I have grown used to using that push-broom as a snow brush on many other vehicles....  I now own a Jeep Liberty, with a cloth roof (sun roof), and I still want the snow off the roof before putting the car in my garage.  I will miss the old, wooden, boar bristle broom.

snow brush, new and old.....

I have a bunch of tools.... most of them were my Dad's.  Some are nice sets, and some are just mis-matched tools that he accumulated one way or another over his nearly 70 years on this earth.  I am grateful for these tools... I have used many of Dad's tools -more often the my own tools.  I have been most grateful for the monkey wrench.... the time I fixed the toilet it came in handy,.... so glad that I was able to find it and put it to use.

I think that I also inherited a kind of toughness, a hardy spirit if you will, from my Dad.....  some of it came from Mom too, but Dad's family was a hardy, spirited bunch.

I still have Dad's recliner.... Dad was a kind of a tv "head", because he followed the old radio programs, --he followed them from radio to television. He was one of the first people in the area to get a television set.  The television was set up in the living room of the house, and that is where the recliner was placed, maybe 12 feet away from the television. By the time I was born Dad had established a pattern of turning the television on first thing in the morning -and leaving it on all day long.  My bedroom was off the living room, so the sounds of variety programs and westerns were my lullabies.  Many a night I was awakened in the wee hours by the sounds of The National Anthem, television sign off, or blare of the test pattern scream.  Dad would fall asleep in the recliner and the television played on until Mom came and got him. 

(I was just 9 years old when he passed.)   When he died we kept the recliner, and it got regular use... when the house was sold I brought that recliner with me.  It was in my large bedroom in my first home, and media rooms (with a television set) thereafter... I still have it and sit in it a few times a week while reading a book. 

One other thing that Dad left me, unfortunately, is his anger.  I have learned to manage that anger well over the many years of my life,... I allow it to manifest when I am alone, in the car or at home, where I rant until I have exhausted whatever topic particularly ignited the angry urges.  Dad was filled with passion, passionate anger, passion for fishing, passion for the motorboat (once upon a time he had a beautiful Criss Craft, later a pontoon boat), passion for "going to the lake", and passion for "going bumming" which meant driving out, late in the afternoon, to pay a surprise visit to one friend or another.  Going bumming, meant that I had a nice ride in the back seat of the car featuring views of stunning sunsets in the countryside of northern Illinois "back in the day'.

Chris Craft (note: this photo is an example, not the actual boat that my Dad owned)

Anyway, Dad, in spite of everything and anything, I still have fond memories of my childhood days, and interactions with you.  I still have things that belonged to you.  Cherished items from my youth, and warm memories of comfort, a sense of direction and a sense of wanderlust.....  Thank you.