Skip to main content

Dad was a Romantic






The best thing about my father was the way he loved my mother.  Dad was a romantic. 
My mom told me she met my dad for the first time at a family gathering.  She said he was the most handsome man in the room.  He was pretty dapper in his day!







I loved his happy temperament.  My kids always got a kick out of his excitement when we arrived at grandma and grandpa’s for a visit.  His favorite saying was “How sweet it is!”  He loved the simple things:  a home-cooked meal, family, playing cards, watching the ballgame with my mother.  We teased the heck out of him for being such a staunch Cubs fan, but he would laugh it off and say that somebody has to be for the underdog.  They were his team and he was loyal even though they hardly ever won.  That says a lot about a man!

My dad was the best dancing partner a girl could have!  I remember a beautiful waltz with him at my wedding.






Whenever I am missing dad, I don’t have to look too far.  Both of my brothers are clones!  They look like him, walk like him and are faithful husbands in good times and in bad.  They chase those “I miss dad blues” away, every time.  It took me and my siblings a while to figure out what true boldness is.  We finally realized later in life, that it is “consistent strength under pressure.”   That’s boldness to us.  It was not always easy to get along with our spirited mom, but our dad demonstrated a bold love that stays the course and his calm, loving ways made it look like a piece of cake.

As Father’s Day approaches, I am thankful for my earthly father.  He left behind a legacy of a man who knew how to love his wife and children and grandchildren.  No wonder it was so easy for me to believe and accept my Heavenly Father’s love!


This post links to the true stories at “Tell Me A Story.”


Comments

  1. Beautiful tribute, Mary. It was especially touching, as this will be my first Father's Day without my dad. As time moves farther from his passing in January, I am remembering more and more of the good times, and the things that I appreciated about him. I'm glad that because of my Heavenly Father's love, and the gift of His Son, I will be able to see my dad again.

    GOD BLESS!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Such a precious tribute to your father, bless you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Love this tribute to your daddy, Mary! He sounds like the sort of man I would have enjoyed knowing.
    These pictures are precious - particularly him all 'duded up' at your wedding.

    Blessings,
    Myra

    ReplyDelete
  4. What a sweet tribute to your dad, Mary! All of the things you mentioned about him that made him special are things I recently read about in a book entitled, Created to be His Help Meet. The things that he loved are things that we as wives need to be doing as our ministry to our husbands. Thanks for sharing such special memories with us, Mary. xo

    ReplyDelete
  5. So lucky you are! What a nice memory. Very touching to read it. Yes, happy Father's day!

    ReplyDelete
  6. A Dad who gets excited when his grandchildren visit is a granddad they shall always remember. Your mom was a blessed woman to have a man who loved her dearly (and loved her children too)!! I have an idea that YOU were Daddy's little girl. Thank you for sharing your lovely post with us here at “Tell Me a Story.” http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  7. Hi Mary! Oh my, what a loving description of your Dad. A true romantic...how blessed you were to have him for a role model. I'm sure your husband is not much different.
    Blessings to you on this Father's Day weekend, and I hope your memories will wrap you in a hug from him. How sweet that is!
    Ceil

    ReplyDelete
  8. Hi -

    I so enjoyed that read and the photos.

    And your red hair flow in your wedding photo --woo wee. Yes.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Surprise at the Mall

I lost touch with a writer friend.  I missed her and her cheerful blog posts.  We met up in a most unusual way!  I’m still in awe of how it happened. I finished my shopping at the mall and took a short cut to get to the parking lot.  The path led me through the food court.  The smell of Chicken Fajitas stopped me in my tracks.  I planned lunch elsewhere, but now I followed my nose. I chewed my first bite of chicken taco salad when, out of nowhere, a loud redhead moved rapidly past the tables and into the booth with me.  “I know you !”  She shouted.  I pondered if I knew this crazy lady.  Did she mistake me for someone else?  She shouted louder and stuck her finger in my face:  “ You’re Mary; you have a blog called Pile of Smiles and you live in the Verde Valley .”   It took me a second to compose myself.  I stopped chewing my food.  I know I stared too long at her face and then she said:...

Hitched to a Rough Road

Photo Credit:  Peggy James I got his email and wanted to shout:  “Hey, buster, does the phrase “continued behavior pattern” mean anything to you?  But I didn’t. Travis is at it again.  His email revealed a litany of complaints about our neighborhood, our country road, our board officers, bad decisions made that will cost him money , yada-yada-yada . Travis is a Christian brother but you’d never know it. He is a large, loud man who shoots his mouth off as often as he shoots his guns back here in the hills.  He interrupts at our road meetings and, like a typical hothead, he speaks truth but with a tone that makes me feel like I need to duck in case some of his words fly at me and smack me upside the face. I thought we were making progress, but we’re not. It is our rough road that brings us together .  Last year we picked up the neglected pieces of our road association.  We agreed to assemble once again to talk, make decisio...

Mama's Lipstick

I always wished I could do things with my mom like shop in the mall, share makeup secrets or go to the movies and watch romantic comedies.  My wish never materialized.     My mama behaved like a tomboy.   She loved baseball and pitched with a strong right arm.   She could care less about the latest fashion or the latest movies featured on the big screen.   She never polished her fingernails.    One day after elementary school, I walked into the house to find my mom all dolled up in front of the bathroom mirror, foundation crème, powder, eyebrow pencil and rouge all over the counter sink.  “Who are you?” I asked, thrilled to see my mama putting on the Ritz.  Makeup in place and blotted, she immediately took it off.  “I don’t like the way it feels,” she exclaimed. She retired in Arizona and protected her dry lips with a light rose lipstick, the color of natural lips, a step above ChapStick.  She wore it a few tim...