my father and i are so much alike. i have inherited his need for order and organization and perfection. (i'm not sure if this is a blessing or a curse.) dad is and always has been a worrier (oh, that's me). he is passionate about the reds (yeah baby!) and loves, loves, loves old movies. he can remember the most minute details about family gatherings, is often incredibly stubborn, pouts when he doesn't get his way, and loves my mom more than anything in the world.
when we girls were growing up, we spent most of our time with our dad. mom was a tupperware lady, and a very successful one at that. she was gone practically every evening from the time we were ten years old until we went away to college. this meant that dad was the one at home enforcing chores (we did all the laundry and dishes, among other things) and bedtimes. but dad was also the one that did incredibly fun stuff with us...
our father was the only dad on the street who played ball with his kids. he taught us how to throw curveballs and knuckleballs at a very early age; dad was a wonderful ballplayer himself, inheriting that same talent from his own father (my grandfather played semi-professional baseball prior to world war two). i also remember we had a tradition during the winter months of watching ohio state basketball on tv while munching popcorn sprinkled with powdered cheese and drinking orange juice (ick?).
when we were really little, dad would teach us to say all kinds of things. for example, by the age of six i could recite the pythagorean theorem: the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides. that came from dad. or ~ we would be waiting in the car while mom was grocery shopping and he would make up some ridiculous math problem, like, "what is 764 x 397?", and one of us would yell someting like, "54!" and he would marvel "OH MY GOSH THAT'S AMAZING! YOU ARE SO SMART!!!" and on and on he would go, with the three of us girls just beaming. he was really full of sh*t in the best possible way.
when i started my period for the first time, my dad was home with me, not my mom. (we sent that poor guy to kroger's so many times to get "feminine supplies" ~ i don't think it bothered him in the least.) i would (and still do) get incredibly emotional and weepy before starting my period; dad could look at me the wrong way and i would burst into tears. i remember doing this one time, then hearing him say in the other room, "connie, jodi's getting ready to start her period...she's crying again." as i recently stated, dad is incredibly organized and pretty anal; he would plan our family vacations six to seven months in advance. i remember several januarys when he would sit all of us down with the calendar and say, "i'm getting ready to book our vacation in july. i want every one of you to count ahead and see when you're going to be on your period that month." he always tried to plan around it, but my gosh, with four women in the house, it was practically impossible!
our dad was at every basketball game, softball tournament, quiz bowl, honor society function, etc. if we were in it, he and mom were there. they never missed an event. i think many of our friends, whose parents weren't as supportive, came to depend on my mom and dad as surrogate family members. everybody knew connie and "big rog".
i love my dad's sense of humor. i said earlier that he can pout when he doesn't get his way, but my gosh the man can be hilarious. earlier today, i called him at work and told him that i bought his birthday present on ebay, but it had not been delivered yet. his response, "that's okay, jodi. i'll just sit up tonight and wait for it to get here." which, okay, doesn't sound that funny...you just had to hear it come from his mouth.
speaking of his birthday present (he doesn't read my blog, so i'm not worried about ruining the surprise), i found a mint condition sports illustrated featuring my dad's favorite baseball line-up of all time ~ the 1956 reds. the cover of the magazine features gus bell, wally post, and ted kluszewski. dad has told me, on more than one occasion, that the '56 reds were, in his mind, more amazing and enjoyable than the big red machine of the '70s. he can quote the '56 roster by name, position, and number. i love to hear him talk about them...his nostalgia is so heartfelt and endearing...
i love my dad for a million and one reasons. and if sat here long enough, i could probably think of a million and one more stories to tell about him. he can be a pain in the butt (simply because he's a guy), but he's also pretty spectacular.
i sure am thankful he's mine.
1 comment:
Ian looks amazingly like his grandfather. What a great tribute.
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