Happy Father’s Day – Remembering Dad And His Generation
Posted on Saturday, June 18th, 2011
Happy Father’s Day!
Last year, I wrote about my Dad on Father’s Day and shared a fun video. You can read that post by clicking here: Listen Carefully For Your Father’s Day Blessing – A Lesson By Jeanne Robertson
I lost my Dad over twenty years ago. I’ve been divorced from my daughter’s father for almost twenty years. And, my husband’s children are not my children. I guess what I’m saying is if it were not for my son-in-law, the father of my grandchildren, Father’s Day would go almost uncelebrated by me.
I miss my Dad.
I miss saying “Happy Father’s Day” to my Dad. I miss handing him his card and seeing all the other ones propped up all over his TV tray by his chair. After all these years, those memories are fading, so what I try to do instead is remember the man who was my father.
Like most men of his generation, my Dad worked hard all his life. He started out very young in the lumber camps, cooking to earn bullets for his rifle so he could hunt deer, so he could cook some more. Like most men of his generation, he went to serve in WWII, came home, went to work, met my Mom, got married, and raised a family. Our family wasn’t exactly typical, but also wasn’t unheard of… I am one of eleven kids.
Probably the hardest job my Dad ever had was being a father to eleven kids. It couldn’t have been easy. I also think it got harder and harder as the years went by, and we started getting into the teen years. Ouch. Sorry, Dad.
Fathers weren’t exactly what you’d call “enlightened” back then. Ask any Boomer what they remember about their father and I’ll bet the answers are very similar – hard working, not a lot to say.
My Dad wasn’t what you would call a patient man, but I don’t recall any fathers back then being patient. We all sort of towed the line when Dad was around. When we were at a friend’s house, we all understood the rules. Don’t bother Dad.
Today’s fathers are involved with their kids. They cook, help with homework, chauffeur, patch boo-boos, take them to the doctor and dentist, read stories, and all those other things we saw Mom do.
My Dad came home from work, sat at the kitchen table, took off his boots, put on his shoes, and waited for dinner. This was the same time every day. He could have helped with dinner, but Mom and Dad seemed to have an agreement of sorts that we kids weren’t really aware of… at least not then.
That is what happened in all the households I was ever in during my childhood. The routine was the same. This gave my childhood some stability. It was comforting knowing what to expect.
My Dad didn’t have a lot to say to us kids. He provided the food on the table and the roof over our heads. He knew right from wrong. He expected us to behave. He taught us a lot without even trying.
So, every Father’s Day I take time to remember those lessons, but also to remember Dad’s sense of humor, his playfulness, his ability to even be silly, and how much he loved all the babies.
Those are the memories that I cherish today.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I miss you.
p.s. The Greatest Generation by Tom Brokaw is probably one of the best resources I’ve found to help Boomers understand their parents. It is a wonderful look at how our parent’s outlook on life, living, and the pursuit of happiness was shaped by world events. The book doesn’t get all gushy and maudlin, but does get into the depth of what makes a person who they are.
A great read and an eye-opener for anyone with parents raised during the beginning of a turbulent century. You can order it easily right now by just clicking this link: The Greatest Generation by Tom Brokaw
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Your thoughts about your dad were really sweet. I lost my dad 30 years ago so I know how you feel.
Sometimes life is seriously unfair.
Thank you, Michele. Yes, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all have our parents into old age? It is unfair, sometimes seriously so. Thanks again for stopping by and taking the time to comment. You know how much I appreciate it.
Patti,
What a beautiful tribute to your Dad — in fact, it’s a great tribute to most fathers of that generation.
Like you, I miss my Dad. I wish I had talked more to him when we were older. He was more willing to open up then.
I realize now that I am much more like him than I knew. And that’s actually a pretty good thing.
Thank you for sharing this heart felt post. It made my day.
Thank YOU so much, Deb, for reading my post and for taking the time to share your thoughts. I, too, am enjoying more and more of my Dad’s traits. It makes me happy when I say or do something and recognize my Dad. I think anyone who was raised by a Dad of that generation knows the sorrow of wasted years. I just hope it’s a lesson learned for the next generations.
Thanks again for stopping by and commenting. I sure appreciate YOU!
Lovely portrait!
Thank you, Lisa. Years seem to bring everything into focus. 🙂
Weewoy would approve. 😉
Thank you, OSS. That brings a tear to my eye. I think of Dad’s siblings loving their baby ‘Weewoy’ and all the joy he brought to the family. I wish I would have been more aware of our elders and their relationships years ago when everyone was here. I guess hindsight teaches us so much. I just hope the younger generation takes a lesson from all this. Don’t let the years go by thinking you’ll have all the time in the world to talk to and learn from your elders.
Thanks again, OSS, for reading and commenting. I so appreciate YOU!
Patti, thank you for sharing this wonderful tribute to your Dad in your eloquent and beautiful, sensitive style. Yes, that was the Dad of our generation; though mine in Germany who endured a lot during WWII. He was a prisoner of war for four years, a father who lived for his family under incredible trying times but did not know how to show his love openly like our sons show their children today. Yet, in his later years, he was fun with his grandchildren, enjoyed them immensely, and softened his heart. I am so happy I was able to witness that, to accept him as an honorable person who loved his family.
And so life shapes us to reach a wiser stage of life so we can appreciate our parents as special human beings we could not when we were young.
Thank You Patti for this fine reflection!
Ute
Thank you, Ute, for taking the time to read, for the kind words, and for sharing your (and your Dad’s) experience. I’m so glad you got to witness your Dad’s softened heart.
I, too, am happy our children and grandchildren can enjoy a more open and understanding relationship. I wish my Dad would have lived long enough to enjoy a peaceful life. He meant well, but was limited by his own upbringing and experiences. I miss him more as I get older.
Here’s to remembering our Dads and all they endured.