WebKittyn Warbles
Saturday, January 31, 2009
100 Things My Dad Gave Me Before He Died, Things to Thank Him For
100 Things My Dad Gave Me Before He Died
When I was a kid my dad would read out loud to my mother and I every other night. After homework and dinner my mother would make a thing of Jiffy Pop popcorn on the stove and we'd settle into the living room or when it was cold, make the popcorn in the den fireplace and stay down there and he would read. Sometimes I would be so comforted and secure listening to his voice I would fall asleep but not often. The books changed and evolved as I aged but I still love them all and hold them special. If I had kids, I would hope my husband would do the same.
1. Babar the Elephant King. He loved Babar as much as I did.
2. Curious George.
3. Clifford the Big Red Dog, another sentimental one.
4. Madeline.
5. The complete Laura Ingalls Wilder books
6.The complete Anne of Green Gables books
7. The complete works of Poe.
8. Moby Dick.
9. My love of reading any and all sorts of books from top tenners to the most obscure.
10. My sick twisted sense of humour.
11. My vulgar side.
12. My love of the English language
13. My understanding of Latin.
14. My truck driver mouth!
15. My appreciation for education.
16. My respect for those who serve in the military.
17. My love of cheesy horror movies.
18. My night owl ways.
19. My stubborn side.
20. My volatile temper.
21. The Irish Rovers and the Unicorn
22. Old country music, Willie and Waylon and Merle and George.
23. Classic jazz and the blues.
24. My love of fine pens.
25. Jigsaw puzzles.
26. Endless games of Clue and Monopoly.
27. The CB Radio and my first D104.
28. Camp Mataponi.
29. Riverdale Country School.
30.My self confidence.
31. My humility.
32. My love or war movies, we just watched 'Tora Tora Tora!' last week.
33. Enjoyment of a cold beer.
34. Overpriced figs.
35. Howard Johnson fried clams.
36. Many trips to the Bill Baird Puppet Theater.
37. Countless Broadway shows.
38. The Black Hills of South Dakota and the late night tour your let me stay up to go on with you.
39. The special trip to Maine with just you and I with the invisible ham sandwich and the room full
of black flies.
40. The cruise on the QE2 where you and I were two of six people on the whole ship not seasick. We took the glass-bottom boat ride and you let me sip your Planter's Punch.
41. The gold bead necklace you gave me special from Neiman-Marcus for my 16th birthday.
42. The purple suede fringe jacket from Neiman-Marcus.
43. The special yearly Christmas present just from dad to daddy's little girl.
44. For never once being too busy to help me with my homework or a project.
45. The pink iPod that was the last of the special father/daughter presents.
46. The Summers we spent on all those cross-country trips.
47. Watching you learn to swim in the Great Salt Lake in Utah.
48. Miniature golf.
49. The courage to dream. You bucked the system to open a used bookstore and you made it work.
50. Wolves.
51. Rides on my sled when, much to my mother's horror, you would hitch the sled to the back of the white Jeep and pull me around the block.
52. Ghost Road - you never ever failed to scare me.
53. Making me afraid of the washing machine by telling me it ate children.
54. Nero Wolfe.
55. Showing me the true love of a father when you went after the douchebag who molested me at 14.
56. A lifetime of large live Christmas trees.
57. Blaze, the best rocking horse and little girl could ever have wanted.
58. All the cards and letters you sent me at camp where you would draw in them, my bunkmates all loved reading them and looking at the drawings.
59. My first car, I think you were as proud of it as I was.
60. A Christmas Story.
61. All the versions of a Christmas Carol.
62. The picture of you hugging me so tight on visiting day at camp, all I wanted was to go home with you.
63. The Tracker you bought me with the money you got from the woman who raised you instead of your mother.
64. My passion for studying true crime.
65. Rusty, the first dog. I know you told me when you were in the hospital you used to think back to when I was a baby and I would try and eat the plastic hot-dog dog toy. This memory gave you joy all these years later.
66. Shiro and Hatchi, the Akitas from Heaven and Hell.
67. My love of the Freemasons and the Knights Templar, all those special books you hunted for me.
68. Cooking marshmallows in the den fireplace.
69. Filling up your den with a full-sized air hockey table.
70. Letting me pick a different restaurant in NYcity every year for my birthday no matter how fancy and taking at least 5 of my friends and I out for dinner.
71. Star Wars.
72. The green Waterman pen.
73. All the letters you wrote to me while I was in Albany even though you were fighting your own battles.
74. The knowledge that one man can truly love only one woman with a burning passion and full heart for 47 years.
75. Teaching me to drive.
76. The Bronx Zoo, how I loved the house of darkness.
77. Strength - you came home when no one thought you would and I held onto that and used it when they told me I'd never get off dialysis.
78. Letting me pretend to run the bookstore myself while you sat in the back, I felt like the king of the world at your larger-than-life desk which has now become mine.
79. When you took me to buy my own desk because you were proud of the work I was doing at Mercy.
80. Fried Potato rounds.
81. Sharing the excitement of a new Cross or Burke book.
82. Only a week before you died, you were voicing concern to my mother about my health.
83. Pinkies.
84. Niagara Falls.
85. Cashmere Sweaters.
86. Darjeeling tea.
87. Explaining footnotes to me over and over in school.
88. Never being too busy to play a game.
89. Being the best golf teacher and tourney watching pal I could hope for.
90. Never missing any of my school plays, recitals or shows.
91. Firm discipline followed by warm hugs. You always pretended to not notice the pillow I stuck down my pants when I knew I was getting spanked.
92. Endless choruses of "Daddy's Little Girl."
93. Family dinner around the table every night.
94. Forgiving me for many stupid moves and mistakes while never loving me any less.
95. Yahtzee.
96. Being the kind of father all my friends could laugh with, joke with, talk to and feel comfortable with.
97. Being both a father and best friend.
98. Key lime pie.
99. The joy you found at the end in simple things like warm tomato soup and oyster crackers. I will never be able to eat an oyster cracker again.
100. The security as a child to grow up knowing I was fed, clothed, spoiled and above all deeply loved.
101. Bay Rum aftershave.
102. Karl Kolchak. Staying up late with you to huddle under a blanket and watch the Night Stalker, I was always so scared and you would laugh as you hugged me.
103. A love of the fine things. I now find myself with the Bose radio and more Waterford crystal on my desk then I could ever use and the Rolex but I know how much you loved these things and I could never part with them, you left them for me.
104. That I was able to do this. I just wrote this list in about 20 minutes after Darkstar went to sleep and could have kept going easily. You gave me a lifetime of travel, support, education, guidance, laughter, security, happiness and so much love - that's one hell of a legacy.
I have no children or husband of my own. I grew up an only child who lived at home by mutual choice until 29. There are no two people I got along with better than my parents and the bond my dad and I had build was truly something not many people get. He was such a huge part of my life and now it feels like a full third is gone, it died with him.
But lists like this are helpful to me, the remind me how lucky I was and how very special a man Charles Ives was even if he wasn't famous. I am reminded how lucky I am to have had a father I can sit down and rattle off a list like this one about so quickly while even more comes flooding to me. It's small solace but I'll take it.
One hell of a legacy.
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Very awesome list, and good that you spent the time focusing
on such awesome stuff. Hope you, all of ya, feel better.on 01/31 at 06:00 AM -
So many memories, so many gifts, you are very blessed indeed
on 01/31 at 04:12 PM
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