Way back when, when I was a tween before there was even a term "tween," my mom met a man. I had turbulent upbringing so this man wasn't necessarily as welcome as I would have wanted. But what did I know, I was a kid. What began as a rocky relationship turned into the father-daughter relationship I had never had.
I have so many memories at this point. The many times he intervened on my behalf between disagreements and overly harsh punishments from my mom, eating dinner in the car while my mom drove to visit him at his place, the crazy curly perm, playing pool, when he tried to teach me to drive my mom's stick-shift truck and I jumped the curb in front of my high school and dug up the grass for all to see. The trips down the back roads of NC to visit my grandparents, quitting smoking by putting down the cigs one day and never looking back, walking me down the aisle when I got married.
So many memories, so little time to make more. The type of memories you mostly stop and consider when the person you're remembering is no longer around. I'm sad to say my stepdad died 8/13/10. Way too soon, way too soon. I still find it difficult to wrap my head around the fact that I'll never speak to him on this earth again.
Every time I hear the word "kiddo" I think of him as that was always the first thing he said to me: "Hey, Kiddo!" Some other select phrases I remember growing up; "Between the A & the T," "You make a better door than a window," "You been drinking muddy water," and the various comments about singing with the commercial jingles. It rankled him to no end how many television commercials I could recite verbatim!
The last thing he did for my family was send the kids some things in the mail. My older two received adventure books for girls and boys, respectively. He also sent National Geo to my son and the younger version to my other daughters. It's strange to get the subscriptions in the mail but a wonderful reminder each month that even though I didn't keep in touch as often as I should that we still had a special place in his heart.
In that vein, I recently ran across a card he sent my husband 11 years ago on my husband's very first father's day. It was a pure fluke I even found it but my stepdad wrote a most meaningful message to my husband. I don't know if I knew about the card and message at the time but it meant more to me than ever to read the words he wrote, especially now. And it reminds me that no matter his laid back attitude, my stepdad was such a multi-layered man with so many more talents than he let on.
So, I'm sharing his message here as a tribute to a fine father figure who, more than anything else, he LOVED his children.
Darrin,
On the occasion of your 1st Father's Day, I thought that I would tell you a little about my Dad.
My Dad wasn't an athlete or race driver, he wasn't a great hunter or fisherman. He was just a regular guy who worked hard and loved his family. He taught me to ride a bike, and to catch a ball. He came to every Little League game, even though I was the worst player on the team. He took me to Saturday matinees of "Tarzan" and "The Crimson Pirate," and he was alway[s] "there" for me. He was, I believe, the finest man that I have ever known. He taught me how to be a man, not by what he said, but by what he did, and by who he was.
Many people take ther[sic] father for granted, because they have always had them, but for those of us like me and Matthew, who started out without one, a Dad is a truly special person. You can spot a Dad by the way his eyes "lite-up" when his children come into the room. I always saw that lite in my Dad's eyes, and I see it in yours when your [sic] with Matthew.
I've always thought that you are a great son-in-law, i'm sure that your [sic] a great Dad, and I think Matthew will be as proud of his Dad, as i am of mine.
HAPPY FATHERS DAY
Jim
My heart kind of hurts at all I've missed over the past few years while busy raising my children and not tending to my own family relationships. But overall I know that my stepdad loved me like his own all these years no matter what. I did get an opportunity to speak with him a couple weeks or so before he died and I feel blessed that we had that time together, however brief.
RIP Jimbo. I miss you more every day.
No comments:
Post a Comment