I miss my Dad.
Miss him all the time, but especially now that we’re smack dab in the middle of the holiday season. Read this today, as the boys played in the snow with our neighbors and Greg, no surprise, swiffered the floors.
Thought I’d share…
My parents had eight kids: two boys, followed by six girls. Often, after dinner, Dad would allow us girls to do whatever we wanted with him…comb his hair, put it in curlers, or paint his toenails. He was like a real live doll for us to play with. He didn’t mind, sometimes he even fell asleep during his beauty treatments.
Every summer his company had a picnic. One year, when it was time to go swimming, we begged Dad to get into the pool with us. As he took off his shoes and socks, his co-workers couldn’t help but notice Dad’s toenails were painted a bright shade of pink. He just laughed and said, ‘Those darn girls.‘ I’m sure he didn’t care who saw it, and he didn’t bother to offer a fuller explanation.
This happened almost forty years ago. About ten years ago, Dad became very sick and had to go to the hospital. We agreed to take him off life support, and we arranged for it to happen when we had all arrived at his bedside. As the priest was giving him his last rites, we six girls agreed that it would be fitting for Dad to enter heaven with his toenails painted. Each of us painted a toe, and amid the tears, we all burst out laughing. The hospital staff must have thought we were crazy, but we knew something they didn’t:
Dad would have loved it.
from the book Wisdom of our Fathers, by Tim Russert