August is a tough month for me. Bate, Mom, and Dad all died in August. At the time,
memories were anything but comforting, but now, years later, they make me smile and my heart swell.
Today is the sixth anniversary of Dad’s passing, and I found him flitting on the edges of my mind as I went through my day.
Where do I start to talk about my dad?
I thought he was the handsomest dad ever — and several of my friends told me he was “cute.”
He was a nice looking man, but I think it was his personality that drew people to him. He was friendly to everyone and always had a smile on his face.
He taught me to play badminton and to swim and tried to teach me to drive. He was successful at the first two, the driving not so much. (Probably had something to do with his little girl growing up.)
He regaled my friends and me with the stories he made up about Donald Duck’s nephews Louie, Huey, and Dewey. Walt Disney should have hired him.
He was a ninja on the grill, Nothing has ever tasted as good as his hot dogs, seasoned with salt air and a little sand, the hibachi at the beach.
He was the trip planner extraordinaire for the annual Greenhalgh family summer vacation.
He walked by my side down the aisle when I married Bob and 13 years later he stood by my side when Bob died.
He grew the most beautiful roses. He was most proud of his Tropicana rose, a bright coral colored flower, and planted a lavender hued one under my bedroom window because I fell in love with it in the catalog.
He made me feel like a princess, but never let me forget that I had wings to fly.
He loved coming down to Virginia for Thanksgiving. He had a blast seeing his “girls,” Lindsay and Madi, visiting with Pat and Jack, and trying to convince me to rake the leaves from the three massive maple trees in the front yard.
Of course he love Thanksgiving dinner, but more than that he loved going out to eat at Rooster’s, a family owned spot featuring home cooking-style food. He talked about it before he came down, while he was here, and when he got back home.
Rooster’s has long since closed, but I cannot drive by that building without remembering eating there with Dad and the time he tried country ham.
Thank you, dear readers, for letting me share my Dad with you.