Five Years

My Dad passed away five years ago today. Aside from the usual things that most people miss when someone dear leaves this earth, Dad had certain quirks and habits that linger in my mind even more so that the rest. I thought I would take this opportunity to pay tribute to Dad by sharing some little known facts:

1. Dad could speak French. Sort of.

2. He loved to tease his grandchildren, and later the great-grandchildren, with his false teeth. Gross, huh? Sure was funny though.

3. Dad had nicknames for everyone. Everyone. So even if he never called you by anything but your real name, you can be sure he had a nickname for you behind the scenes.

4. He sang country music and played his guitar live on the radio way back in the day.

5. His car could not have one speck of dust or dirt on it or inside it. Ever.

6. Dad spent more time getting ready to go somewhere than any of his daughters did. Seriously.

7. He let us listen to the rock station on the radio in the car. Sorry, Mom.

8. He phoned me at work at least once a week for years. Man, I miss those talks.

9. Dad always got us an ice cream cone when we went for a drive. Sometimes a two-scooper.

10. He hardly ever missed an episode of The Young and the Restless. It’s the truth.

11. He could fall asleep in the middle of the noisiest family gathering.

12. He taught me how to dip fresh bread into milk with lots of brown sugar in it. Tasty stuff. I haven’t had that in a long time.

13. Dad and I ate our Corn Flakes together every morning when I was little. He’d go back to work and I’d go back to bed after I waved goodbye at the window.

14. As our pastor, Dad baptized all four of our children and married three of them.

15. He could do a great Tarzan yell when we were up in the woods of northern Saskatchewan. Astounding, really.

16. He taught me how to drive. And then never allowed me behind the wheel after I got my license. This is why girls date boys with cars.

17. You could never be sure that the story of every dumb thing you ever did in your life wouldn’t be told in one of Dad’s sermons. That’s why you have kids, right? So you can embarrass them in public.

I leave you with the lyrics to this song – one Dad sang to us hundreds of times:

There was a man named Isadore,
Who tied his goat outside his door.
One day the goat was feeling fine,
He ate the red shirt off the line.

Said Isadore, the goat must die,
So he tied him to the railroad tie.
The whistle blew and the goat in vain
Coughed up the red shirt and flagged the train.

Dad, I love you and I still miss you every single day – more than anyone knows.