Happy Father's Day Daddy!

My dad came into my life when I was two years and 8 months old. It is, I think, just about the first memory in my storage bank and one I treasure still.


My mom was a widow and she and my grandma moved with me from Tennessee to Idaho when I was a year old because that's where two of her brothers were living at the time. I don't remember riding the train, or a lot about anything that happened before I met my dad. I do remember the little shack we lived in before he joined us, especially the bathroom, but that's a tale for another day.


Anyway, there we were, me and Grandma, just hanging out, maybe reading a book. The room was dimly lit by an oil lamp, sparsely furnished and Grandma was sitting on a wooden chair. The door opened and my mother came in, followed by someone I'd never seen before. I scurried behind Grandma, shyly peeking around her at this new person.


My mother smiled and said, "Don't be scared, Paula. This is your new daddy."


And, there he was, right up beside her in the room with a big smile on his face. He looked all friendly and nice; and while I don't remember my response to him at that time, he was the best daddy my mom could possibly have found. Never once did I ever doubt that daddy loved me, even when mom gave him a son and daughter. He always made me feel special, called me, "Little One," and believed I was capable of accomplishing anything I set out to achieve.


Daddy left me after 30 years, dying of a brain tumor 18 days before my 32nd birthday. But, 30 years, three decades, is a lot of time and it is chock full of memories I cherish. I could probably type for hours and still not provide a title for all the slides in my personal PowerPoint. We danced...my small feet on his when I was very small and again at my wedding. We camped and fished...caught my first catfish on Lake Pend Orielle even though daddy had to bait the hook and take the fish off...and continued to do so when my husband joined the family. We laughed and commiserated as a family around the dinner table...a practice I brought to my own marriage and family. We shared joys and sorrows...memories of those still have the power to make me smile, laugh or even cry.


I so wish I could have had daddy in my life for another 30, 40 or even 50 years. I wish he could have seen his first grandson, whom he loved dearly, grow up to be the wonderful, compassionate and beautiful man he is now, a father in his own right. I wish my younger son could have experienced that special grandpa-grandson bond that so enriched his older brother's life...I feel as though he was cheated of something very special.


And, as long as I'm wishing, I wish I could, just once more, hear daddy's voice call me "Little One." No one has called me that since I was 32 and I miss it...I miss him...still. Happy Father's Day Daddy, and thank you for my life and all the wonderful memories.