Forever my Daddy

To some thirty-four years may seem like nothing. If I heard someone say that they were thirty-four years old my response would be, "You are still young, you have many years ahead of you!" To others thirty-four years seems like an eternity. If it had been that many years since you lost someone you loved very much that would feel like a lifetime.

It happens to be thirty-four years ago this year that I lost my Daddy. I was only seventeen when he died; I called him Daddy until his last breath; so therefore, he is forever my Daddy. And I guess you could say I am forever his little girl. Sadly, I have lived more years without him then I did with him. But how long does it take to make an impact on someone's life? And does that someone continue impacting and influencing your life even after they are gone?

Seventeen years is not long at all, but it was long enough for him to make a long-lasting impression on my life. Even though I was a teenager when he died; you know that 'I know everything, and I don't need you telling me what to do'; time of your life? Despite my subtle rebellion and sassiness, my parents were great role models and I gladly thank them for helping me become the person I am. As an adult I can look back and see what attributes Daddy personally had a hand in when it came to decisions I have made or simply in who I am and my personality, which is so much like his.

As a child he was quiet and shy as was I and still am. This is why I said I was subtly rebellious and sassy. I was only that way at home. I was too shy and awkward to act that way anywhere else! As an adult he was still on the quiet side but more like reserved rather than shy. He suffered bouts of anxiety and depression. Things I believe were inherited as I suffer the same. His heart was good and pure. People found it easy to get along with him. He had a long-lasting impression on many people's lives. To this day, if I bump into an old friend of his they still comment about how my dad was one of a kind.

Daddy was a very talented man. He could play several instruments by ear. He never learned how to read music. The main instruments he liked to play was the piano and the accordion. He was part of a band that played locally. After he married and had children he just played with a couple of friends. They would do little gigs here and there but mostly they met up at one or the others house and had a jam session just for fun. I loved those sessions. We would usually make a party out of it. There was always room to dance and lots of food. Whenever it was held at our house it was in our spacious basement. We would invite aunts, uncles and cousins. Those were good times that I miss so very much, and I treasure those memories.

He could sing too. His favorites were country western and gospel. I can still hear his sweet voice crooning out songs like 'Bouquet of Roses' and 'He'll have to go'. That was the only talent he passed on to me. I started singing with him when I was young. I never learned how to read music, nor did I learn any instruments. I wasn't lucky enough to get the gift of playing by ear. Daddy and I had a unique connection when it came to music. We 'knew' each other. I could sing flawlessly with him playing my music. But I struggled whenever someone else tried playing for me. After he died it was a very long time before I could even listen to music again at all. When I let music back into my life the only singing I did was to the radio.

My parents had a true love story, and it is sad beyond words that it was cut so short. He died just before their twenty-second wedding anniversary. The love between them seemed magical to me. I never heard them fight. I never even heard them raise their voices at each other. There was always such mutual respect and love between them. My mom always said that he was her one true love and that no one could ever measure up to him or take his place. She never remarried or even dated. But watching them I learned how a good man treats the love of his life. And I knew without a doubt exactly what I wanted in a partner. I wanted a husband that respected and loved me as much as I respected and loved him. I wanted someone like my Daddy. It took awhile but I found him! He may not be exactly like my Daddy, because after all according to my mom, no one could ever measure up! But my husband is pretty special, and he is a good husband and a good father to our children.

My children and my nieces and nephews could tell you stories about my dad even though they never got to meet him. They came to know their grandpa very well just through the things we have talked about and shared throughout the years. They see the love and admiration we had and still have in our hearts for him.

Was he completely perfect? I suppose not. Who is? When I try to think of any "bad" habits that he had, all that comes to mind is that he smoked cigarettes and once in a while I heard him curse. I can't say personally that I believe those two things are anything that makes someone bad! In my eyes he was perfect. And I wish for every little and grown girl to be able see her daddy as perfect.

When I was growing up, I remember we went to church almost every Sunday. It was rare not to be there come Sunday morning. A very obvious memory from that is hearing Daddy singing the hymns that he loved so much. That is a sound I can still hear in my head. Another thing that stays with me is his hands. If I close my eyes, I can still see his hand resting on the back of the pew in front of us while he sang. I loved his hands. They were a working man's hands. Calloused, rough and the veins on the backs of them were very prominent. Occasionally you would see a broken blood blister or blackened fingernail from hitting himself while hammering on something. But they were also gentle hands. With tender loving care they held me and my siblings. They gently cared for baby animals on our small farm. They even liked cooking once in a while in the kitchen. They hugged my mom and held her hand as they strolled.

And his hair was magnificent! He always kept it neatly trimmed, but he had this longer wave of hair in the front that he very meticulously combed just so, over and up into this perfect style. He used a product in his hair that was greasy and that is what helped keep it up there. Sometimes at night while watching tv he would let me sit and comb his section of wavy locks! And he always wore sideburns. His whole adult life Daddy had always kept the same hair style.

So much has faded from my memories. But those glimpses of things that stood out are still there, and I hope with all my heart that they never leave me. He was a good Daddy, and he would be proud to know that he did his job as such very well.

Can someone have an impact on your life even after they are gone? You bet they can. He will forever be my Daddy and I his little girl.