The Back Story

Someone recently asked me how I came to be living with my Dad. I guess it’s an honest question and I don’t blame people for being curious. After all, I am 50-something years old. I guess you might think it’s just weird. Well, I really don’t care what you think. How’s that for honest? Having said that, I will tell you the story of how me living with my Dad came to be.

Back in 1992, my mother lived in SW Missouri (as I do now) but she had left my Dad and her family behind. We were all still living in California. She was killed in an auto accident in 1992 when she was thrown from her pick up. She wasn’t wearing her seat belt. Although it was terribly sad and hurt my heart deeply, I knew something bad was going to happen. I just knew. (That’s another story for another day.)

After she was gone, we (my Dad, my ex and I) had started talk of moving to Arkansas or Missouri. Dad wanted us to come with him because he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to go somewhere where he could afford to purchase a home. Mom had pretty much spent every last dime he ever made and he could never afford to buy a place of his own. So, we talked a lot about when and where, and how we would pull it together. We would pool our incomes and help each other out with household duties, child care, etc. My grandmother (mother’s mother) would come with us because there was no way I would leave her in California with no one to take care of her.

The plan was that Dad was going to rent a Uhaul, pack it up with the things we didn’t want to leave behind. He would leave in May of 1993. Before he left, he bought plane tickets for my kids, my grandmother, and I. We would be leaving in July. (My ex was supposed to follow around December but it was apparent before we even left that he was just itching to get rid of us and had no intention of following us out here at all. Another story, another day.) 

Before we left, I packed a few boxes of items we wanted to keep but needed up until the last minute. I shipped those boxes via UPS to my sister’s house in Illinois. We would be staying with her for a little while until Dad found a house and got it ready for us all to move in. It took a little longer than he expected to find a place so we were at my sister’s house for 3 weeks. I bet that was a long 3 weeks for her! 

So, fast forward…. My Dad, my grandmother, my kids and I are living in the same house. I was working full time and my kids were in school. Dad took on ‘father figure status’ and took care of the kids when I was at work; he made sure they were fed, clean, nice to each other and that they did their homework. My grandmother tried to help but caused a lot of trouble in the process. (Another story.) I worked my butt off until I had the opportunity to start my own home business. I learned about marketing and how to build a website. I learned everything I could about websites and online businesses so that I could work at home. I learned how to make my own bath and body products and my business was finally being noticed. I had many repeat customers.

I could have moved out of the house and created a home for my kids elsewhere, but by then my grandmother had passed away and that would have left Dad all alone. The whole reason he wanted us to move here with him in the first place was so he wouldn’t be alone. Besides, Dad’s house was my kids’ home.

Dad is 80 now. The kids are grown and moved out. I have had health issues that have led me to close my home business. I can no longer work and I receive SSI benefits. I still try to take care of Dad, as best I can. I make sure he eats, takes his medications, get him to his doctor appointments, etc. Dad helps me too. He’s a big help with many of the household chores that are now difficult for me. He unloads the car when I go for groceries. He washes dishes and helps with the laundry. He is a very entertaining housemate, and if you read Shit My Dad Says, then you will understand the extent of humor in our house! He is my best friend and I’m not going anywhere!

So, that is the story! That’s how I came to be living with my Dad. I wouldn’t change that for anything. Questions? Just ask.

Shit My Dad Says

I had been struggling to find something to blog about and then it hit me! Dad is a pretty funny guy, always has been. For the last couple of years, I have been posting his funnies on Facebook with the hashtag #ShitMyDadSays. He wasn’t too happy when I told him tonight about those posts. Uh oh. Well, he’s 80. He will forget by tomorrow. He forgets a lot these days.

While this post may not be suitable for all audiences, it’s still pretty funny. If you have a stick up your butt or you just don’t have a sense of humor, then just don’t read past this paragraph. You were warned.

*”I use to be a rebel-rouser, until I got shot.”

*When he and my son were up on the roof doing some repair work, Dad was attacked and stung by a wasp. This happened to him 2 weeks prior, so when it happened this time he came in and said, “I just got attacked by that same wasp!” “The same one?” I asked. He said in all seriousness, “Looked like the same one to me!” Half of his face was swollen and the next day he looked like Droopy, the old cartoon dog.

*Myrbetriq commercial comes on. The animated woman’s bladder is PINK so Dad informs me that men have a BLUE bladder! Lmao! Always the funny guy!

*Dad just asked me, “Do you know why I can never find anything?” I said, “Why?” He said, “Because I don’t know where anything is.” Lol.

*Goodness…. Watching Y&R with Dad. (Yeah, Dad watches the soaps!) A couple is wanting to adopt a child and are told of a teen mother in her 3rd trimester. Dad says, “That’s just asking for trouble. Why don’t they adopt a baby?” (In my head: wtf did he just say?) I said, “Dad, they are. They’re going to adopt the teen’s baby!” “Oh,” he said. He actually thought they were going to adopt the teenager?! Lol.

*Omg. Lol. Convo between me and Dad:
Me: Did we know that Sean Austin was Patty Duke’s son?
Dad: I think we knew that.
Me: Who is Sean’s dad?
Dad: Marmaduke?
Can’t ever be serious around here!

*To my daughter, I asked, “Do you remember that time your Grampa was talking about his handle bars when he actually meant love handles???” He still calls them handle bars! Lol!

*Watching the news and trying to stay cool. Dad takes a drink of his water and says, “This water is wet.” I said, “That’s odd. Mine’s not.” He says, “You must have Canadian Dry Water.” Lol.

*Hahaha! Dad was just talking about a restaurant he went to in TX with my Aunt Bobbie a long time ago where the waitress sat down in the booth and started chatting like she knew them. What’s funny is that Dad said the name of the restaurant was the “Outhouse!” Lmao! I said, you mean “Outback” don’t you? He said, “Yes!”

*Had to go to town for groceries today. It’s so hot and humid. It was nice and cool in the car. Looked in the mirror before I stepped out of the car, and said “My hair is flat already. I guess I can’t be beautiful every day.” Dad and I both chuckled a little and then he says, “Only one day a year to find a man.” WHAT????? I just walked into the store scratching my head.

*Definitely feeling old. I read this (below) to Dad and he said, “I don’t remember any of that.” Lol.

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*Dad’s watching DNC and out of the blue he says, “Eat shit and bark at the moon! That’s what I always say!” My crazy world. Lol.

*Yesterday I don’t think it hit 30 degrees all day. Today it hit 40. I feel colder today than I did yesterday. Dad agreed…..and then added, “Maybe we have reverse osmosis.” Never a dull moment, I swear. Lol.

*Me complaining this morning: “I don’t know what’s worse; hot flashes or the freakin’ stray hairs growing out of my face!” Dad’s response: “You could always join the circus.” Thanks, Dad. Lol.

*That moment when your father says, “I know one thing….I’m not getting one of those transvaginal implants no matter how much money they’re paying.” (He’s referring to the law suit commercials and of course just being silly.)

*Checking out in Walmart today, the checker accidentally knocked a large box of canned cat food onto the floor, landing on Dad’s foot. She was so worried and felt so horrible, saying “Are you ok? Are you ok?” Dad says, “I’m ok. It landed on my big toe that’s not there!” Lmao! Checker says, “Are you serious?” Dad says, “Yes. It landed where my toe would have been, had it been there.” We all got a good chuckle out of it. (For those who don’t know, Dad has 2 missing toes on one foot….shot gun accident years ago.)

*TWD & popcorn night. Trying to explain to Dad that even though the bowl is bigger, it’s the same amount of popcorn I make him every Sunday. “But it’s a bigger bowl,” he keeps saying. Silly man.

*Dad says, “I’m going to be a cat when I grow up.” Lol.

*Coming up a hill on the way home today, had to hit the brakes for 3 people crossing the road on horseback. After they crossed I waved and continued on my way. Dad, in all his silliness says, “I didn’t know they still made horses.” Lol. He’s always throwing stuff like that at me and it cracks me up every. time. 

*After slowly getting up out of my chair, I told Dad I was tired of trying to get around like a normal human being. Dad said, “Maybe we should just cut off your legs.” I said, “I would probably get around better.” Dad said, “You’d be a bit shorter but…..” Lmao! Leave it to Dad.

*After a few groans, Dad says, “I thought you were suppose to be dead before rigor mortis sets in.” Good grief. The things that come out of his mouth. Lol

*So, Dad and I are watching AGT and talking about how Simon Cowell is better than Pierce Morgan and Howard Stern. Dad said with more than a little disgust, “Oh yeah. That Stern guy has been a dick all his life and all of mine too.” Lmao! 

 

So, that just about sums up my life with Dad. He keeps me on my toes. Sometimes, when we go to Walmart, any Walmart, he will ask me, “Have I been here before?” I keep telling him, “One of these days you’re going to be serious and I won’t know the difference.” He’s so funny and my best friend. I don’t know what I would do without him.

Thanks for reading. I hope you got a good chuckle!

An Insight Into Autism

My “other daughter” has become a very invested, loving parent not only to her own biological children but to 2 step-sons as well. This is her wonderful opinion piece and I hope you will give it a read. I dare you to walk away without getting it in the ‘feels.’ Please do share, and share again…..
 

Autism: 4 Reasons Why I will Never Accept the Statement “I hope they don’t find a cure for autism” by Alyssa Anderson

-SEEING RED

   I was sitting in Phase I training soaking in all of the knowledge I could in order to help my step-son who has autism advance in learning. I understood that his autism was something that made it hard for us to communicate. Sometimes we speak the same language, and sometimes we don’t. Sometimes he would understand what I meant when I said, “I’m going to get some milk.” He knew I meant “Alyssa is going to get some milk.” Other times, I could say that exact same sentence, “I am going to get some milk”, and this time his response is “Ah! I don’t want any milk!” Yes, those pronouns are sometimes tricky. He processed it as “Colton is going to get some milk.”

   Yes, I was there sitting in training hoping I was determined as Temple Grandin’s mom. I wanted to learn his specific language. I wanted to break that language barrier. I wanted to break that barrier so we could talk and learn things from one another about things way bigger than who wants milk. I wanted to help him count money. I wanted him to understand what rent was. I was soaking in this information like a sponge, and then I heard something that made me angry. Instantly I realized that I didn’t understand why this person said what she did and what she said made me so mad.

   This “autism specialist”, our team leader, was explaining that her son had aspurgers. It was wonderful hearing her talk about his quarks and about how much she loved him. Then she said something that had me seeing red (a metaphor Colton wouldn’t quite understand). She said, “I hope they never find a cure for Autism. Actually, the world would be a lot better place if everyone had Autism.” That statement was made to me about 8 months ago.

   I understand very well that my thinking and opinion is often in the minority, therefore I said nothing. Often, I have to research the opposing opinion and sometimes I realize I’m in the wrong. So, over the next few months, I combed through the comments on news blogs and social media posts with titles like, “Mother of Child With Autism determined to ‘Kick Autisms Butt”‘. Once again, I found that I was holding the minority opinion. Comments similar to “how dare you try to change your child, he is who he is and you not accepting that means you don’t love him” riddled the comments. Out of hundreds of comments, maybe ten said “good job, momma”. Out of thousands of reactions, there were few “likes” or “loves” and plenty of “angry” and “wow”. Yes, wow can be on the fence, I understand. Moving forward, I had to ask myself as I often do when my opinion differs: Why? Why do I still feel like I would want a cure? Why am I not convinced? I agreed with their statements like “My son isn’t any less of a person because of his autism”, but I didn’t agree with people ridiculing other parents dealing with autism as trying to “beat it” or advancing their children’s learning to hopefully one day function in society like Temple Grandin. She is an amazing person whose mother never gave up on her. In fact, just like stated earlier, I wanted to have her mother’s determination. Temple’s mom is a hero! That was one determined momma. (If you don’t know the story, look it up. It’s not fiction. If you don’t want to read about it, there is a movie. Watch the movie and the bonus features. You will see Temple herself, and you will most likely cry.)

   I thought long and hard, trying to understand the popular opinion. After a considerable amount of time thinking about my opinion and why I felt that way, at 3 am this morning (yes this thought has been plaguing me enough to keep me awake sometimes) I zeroed in on 4 main reasons why I can not accept the statement, “I hope they don’t find a cure for Autism.”

– 4 REASONS WHY I DISAGREE

   Before I start my list of reasons, I want you, as the reader, to understand a little about Colton. He is somewhere between “low functioning” and “aspurgers”. He babbles, but he can speak English. Forming complete sentences in normal conversation isn’t always something he does IF you can get him to hold a conversation in the first place. His favorite word is “no”, and he’s doing this new thing, “Shush! I am the great shusher” when you say something he disagrees with like “eat your vegetables”. He flaps his hands, gets frustrated easily, jumps around, and he does this high-pitched, loud squealing thing and squawking thing when he’s excited watching his movies or playing games like “you’re a dirty old man” with his dad. He is a joker, a prankster, has a wonderful love for his brother, he is exemplary at art, he loves animals, and he draws funny cartoons. One time, he drew me with wings flying in the air, and my arms were open wide, welcoming the children floating around me that were all in the fetal position. He kept saying about the picture “She’s going to love us. That Alyssa is going to love us!” Oh, he is one sweet boy. Do not doubt my love for him because he certainly doesn’t. So here are the reasons why I couldn’t agree with our “team leader”.

REASON 1: COLTON

   It is hard watching this wonderful, beautiful child cope with his condition. He is frustrated. He may not fully understand autism. He may not fully understand why he feels like he’s different than the majority of people, but he does understand that he IS different. He sees people communicating with one another with ease. He will watch (while looking away. He watches with his ears by putting one close to the conversation with his head slightly turned toward you) in bewilderment as I have a conversation with his dad. It’s so easy for us. I imagine it’s like sitting in a room full of people speaking Spanish while I only speak a little and can’t keep up with deciphering the words. He knows he can’t do that, and it frustrates him. How do I know? Well, no one talks to him here saying he’s different. We try to assimilate and treat him just like we would the other kids in our family. We don’t tell him, “you have autism”. Despite that, he makes statements like “My brain is sick” and “I don’t want friends” (obviously just trying to avoid having to confront his frustration at communication). He has even asked me, “Why do I have to be a human anyway? Why can’t I be a dinosaur? Being a human is stupid. Humans are stupid.” No, I’m not projecting. Sometimes he hurts because of his autism. He doesn’t speak everything on his mind. In fact most of his speaking is trivial and impossible like asking dad to make him a time machine so he can go back in time or asking me to make a DNA splicer since he knows I like Science. Him saying these deeper things are real to him. To him, they are not a joke or a fantasy. He sees the difference, and he doesn’t like it. No one pointed it out to him. Why wouldn’t a parent want for their child exactly what the child wants for his/her own self, especially regarding the struggle with mental health? Could you imagine him asking me to take it away and instead of helping if I could, I tell him “Sorry, I’d rather you have autism”? It would be wrong. I cried thinking about him being upset that “his brain is sick”, those were his words! So for Colton, that dear, loving, wonderful human being, I can not agree with the statement, “I hope they don’t find a cure for Autism.”

REASON 2: AUTISM

   Autism is a significantly broad spectrum. In no way am I downplaying aspurgers, I grew up with someone who had aspurgers. It’s very hard. However, I found it very insensitive for this mother of a child who has aspurgers to say, “I hope they don’t find a cure for autism” to the mother in the back whose child bangs her head up against the wall in a fit, bites bloody chunks of flesh out of her own arms and legs (most likely out of the mother’s arms too), who is incontinent, has sleepless nights, seizures, and people, the list goes on and on! It’s hard for parents to watch that, and I assure you, this poor child doesn’t want this for herself. It is very insensitive to simply say to this mother and child, who go through this daily, “Actually, the world would be a better place if everyone had autism.” My son does none of these self-harming things, but for the sake of these parents and children who experience it daily, weekly, or even once a year, I refuse to agree with the statement, “I hope they don’t find a cure for autism.”

REASON 3: MY SON HAS AUTISM, OR MY SON IS AUTISTIC?

   Oh boy, this is a conundrum. Not the first definition. No, it isn’t a hard question that has a hard-to-find answer. No, the answer is simple. In fact, it was the first thing we went over during this Phase I training. My son HAS autism. Everyone who has a child with autism can well agree with that. Autism is a mental disorder. Look up “mental disorder”, and you will see autism on the list. Just like a smart woman said at the beginning of Phase I training, we would not say a person IS ADHD, we would say they HAVE ADHD. The main and most important point of it: AUTISM DOESN’T DEFINE A PERSON. They are who they are and autism is a series of symptoms. It is so important, not just politically correct, to say this correctly as we talk about this condition. So then, why is this conundrum amusing? Put frankly, you can’t say “my child has autism” in one breath and “You don’t love your child because you want to “beat autism”. You should love them just the way they are” in another breath because the two sentiments are exactly the opposite. This is a heavy burden and a huge controversy for people with children who have autism, and people with children who don’t have autism cannot understand. Therefore, any person not directly caring for a child with autism has no right to an opinion for no cure (which I’m sure on these comment boards there were many), and their comments are null and void. Sorry. I love you all the same, but you cannot understand. So, now only thinking about the parents who have a right to an opinion and agree that they don’t want a cure, I tried to understand. Every comment section had hundreds of parents saying to other parents who would want to eradicate autism sentiments to the effect of, “how dare you want to change your child. My child is perfect, and I wouldn’t change them for anything. It’s who they are, and you need to accept that.” Ah ha. There it was. They were essentially saying, “My child IS autistic.” In their eyes, if their child didn’t have autism, their child would not be the same person. These same people, who would have another person’s head chopped off if they didn’t say “has autism” instead of “is autistic”, weren’t playing by their own rules. This is identifying autism as the person, not the disease. So I asked myself and pondered on it for a while, “Do I think Colton would be Colton if he didn’t have autism?” Yes, I do. He would still love art. He would still be hilarious and a joker. He would still do “Colton things”. Yes, he still be “Colton”, but he wouldn’t feel the frustration that comes with autism. That child mentioned earlier would still be the same child, but wouldn’t be hanging her head against the wall. It can be said of all mental disorders, “(insert any disorder here) doesn’t define who a person is.” If this is true, then how could my child possibly be a different person if there was a cure? If autism is truly a mental disorder like ADHD (once again: it is defined that way, don’t shoot the messenger), then how would you feel if a parent said, “I hope they don’t find a cure for ADHD” or “I hope they don’t find a cure for tourettes syndrome, depression, anxiety, seizures, OCD, PTSD, schizophrenia..” Ok people, once again, the list goes on. I understand autism is different for each child and it is almost impossible to “cure” because no two children with autism are the same. Even the cause varies from person to person. Getting back on track, if it’s true that the disease doesn’t define the person, then how would they be a different person if somehow someone found a “cure all”? The cure would be for the symptoms. It would not result in some new person who is nothing like your old child being born into a more-grown-than-an-infant body. A person can not say their child has autism if their thinking doesn’t line up with that sentiment. Either their child HAS autism, and it doesn’t define the child, or the child IS autistic and would not be your “real” child should there be a cure. My child HAS autism, and I want to help him in any way that he wants to be helped. This is another reason why I can not accept the statement, “I hope they don’t find a cure for autism”.

REASON 4: THIS WORLD SUCKS

   If I could get Colton to understand why bad things happen to good people (yes there is a satisfying answer to that question), this would help him. However, I can’t at this point. I can’t explain to him that someday all of his loving parents who love him greatly will probably die before he does. He will have to go on to live somewhere else. Most likely in a group home. Sure, he will most likely be older, but that doesn’t make it any less unnerving that this innocent person will be at the world’s mercy. I know we all want to give ourselves reassurance that at OUR group home, everyone loves my child. At OUR group home, there are no sexual predators, and no one takes advantage of MY child. Reality: I’ve worked in homes and have seen first hand the neglect and two-faced actions of many caregivers. Not all caregivers are that way, but I assure you, every child and/or adult living in these homes will be exposed to one or more people like that. Oh, and that nice caregiver, the one who genuinely cares, (speaking from experience) will turn in abuse and neglect to the administrator and they will say something exactly like this: we have investigated your claim, and we have determined that this situation met at least MINIMAL care requirements. Yes. Minimal is just fine in their book. After all, the worker to resident ratio is way overwhelming, so how could they possibly be taken care of properly. Too many residents, not enough workers. I will not kid myself. Sure the staff will be wonderful when you’re there visiting, and the abuse and neglect will be on a smaller scale for those whose family visits often. That girl who was abused in the care facility I worked at had no one. No visitors. No family (who did exist) came to see her. She got the brunt of it the abuse, and no one helped her. I will never send Colton to a residential place, and I can only hope and pray that one of our other children steps up to the plate and takes on that large responsibility. Yes, it scares me on a deep level. What is going to happen to this wonderful child of mine who has a problem counting money and may never be able to live on his own? He’s 14 now and for the future safety and well-being of this growing human (yes he is a human, not a dinosaur as he longs to be), I cannot agree with the Statement, “I hope they don’t find a cure for autism.”

   Yes, four reasons why I can not find it in myself to agree with this heart-wrenching statement. Yes, I realize I’m in the minority. Yes, I’m sure there will be more “how dare you” comments or thoughts from anyone able to read this. Yes, I understand that the world we live in isn’t able to solve his problems fully. Yes, I know his only real hope for his safety and cure for this disease that does not define him doesn’t rest in the hands of this world’s system and maybe not even Science. Perhaps someday someone will find a cure, but I’m not counting on it. I just can’t bring myself to agree with the statement, “I hope they don’t find a cure for autism”. We have to be there for those who want to help their children beat autism. So next time you see someone trying to defeat it for their child and if the thought to ridicule them crosses your mind, don’t.. Try to understand their opinion like I tried to understand theirs. I wrote this for people to try to understand. Don’t claim superior parenting by degrading their hopes for their children because “THEIR child has autism”, not “their child IS autistic”. Paraphrasing a loving mother of a child with autism, “Leave them alone. We all have a journey with autism, and this is hers.”

Advice to Those Living With Others

If you live with others, whether it be your parents, your spouse, room mates….doesn’t matter WHO….here’s a few bits of advice for you to chew on:

  1. If you see the toilet is getting yellow, at the very least, grab the scrub brush and swish it around a little. If you really want to be a helpful human being, use some kind of cleaner in the toilet, even if it’s just vinegar. Don’t brag about what you have done to help.
  2. If you see the kitchen floor in need of a good sweep, it won’t kill you to grab the broom and dust pan and give it a good once over. Takes but a few minutes. Don’t brag about what you have done to help.
  3. If the carpets are in need of vacuuming, it isn’t going to kill you to vacuum. Doesn’t take long to clean up and make the room presentable again. Don’t brag about what you have done to help.
  4. If dishes need to be washed or put away, do it. It won’t kill you. Just be sure to use dish soap and get the damn things clean. Don’t brag about what you have done to help.
  5. If the living room or your bedroom or the office, etc., are in need of a bit of tidying, then tidy-up, you slob. It won’t kill you to help. Don’t brag about what you have done to help. 
  6. If you fix yourself something to eat, clean up after yourself. By that, I do NOT mean push the crumbs off onto the floor or toss the dishes in the sink. I mean, WIPE the counter clean with a cloth, wash your little dab of dishes or put them in the dishwasher. Don’t brag about what you have done to help.
  7. Don’t wait for someone else to be doing the chore and then ask, “Do you want me to do that?” or “Do you want me to help with something?” And whatever you do, don’t proclaim, “I was going to do that!” because seriously, if you were going to do it you would have done it already! You’re not fooling anyone!
  8. Oh and did I mention, Do not brag about what you have done to help!? You can pitch in and do your share because you live there too! Your mom, sister, daughter, brother, friend, etc., were NOT put on this earth to clean up after you. Do your share! You live there too! Period!

I guess all I’m trying to say here is, get off your butt and do your part in maintaining a house, a home, that you share with others. You can work all day and be tired when you get home, but just a few minutes to at least try to help out at the end of the day will mean a lot to the others you share a space with. Your days off can be for goofing around, going to the gym, playing video games, taking the dogs to the park, etc., but it won’t hurt YOU to do a little to help tidy-up the space you share with others. It’s not fair to expect one person to do it all when all of you share in making the messes.

Father’s Day Is Every Day

My father has been my friend for almost as long as he has been my Dad. Does that sound silly?

When I was a little girl, I looked up to my Dad, as most all little girls do. But as I was growing up, my mother had me to believe that my dad was just awful. (She shouldn’t have ever talked bad about my Dad in front of me or my sisters.) She was very vocal. She had to let me know that my dad was a “know-it-all-son-of-a-bitch” and there were so many times she would tell me something secret or private and would instruct me NOT to tell Dad. (Like when she spent the $800 for rent on a new VCR.) When I first started shaving my legs, at around age 11, she told me NOT to tell Dad because he would get mad. There were many things like that, which were part of a young girl growing up that I was instructed NOT to tell Dad because he would get mad. 

When I hit high school and started thinking for myself, I realized that my Dad was a good guy. He wasn’t the asshole my mother made him out to be. He was kind and he had feelings. The first time I ever saw my Dad cry was at his baby sister’s funeral. It broke my heart. Dad was always good to us girls, and to my mother as well. There were times, he told me when I was grown, that he wanted to smack my mother upside the head, but he never did it. Why? Because he’s a genuinely good man. He would never hit a woman.

Dad made us laugh all the time. I remember when my sisters were little Dad would go outside and ride their tricycles. It was so funny to watch because he had such long legs and it had to have been difficult to ride a tricycle like that!

Dad helped us with our homework, because mom didn’t have more than an 8th grade education and if she tried to help us, she would just get mad at US because we knew “that’s not how you do it.” Anyway, Dad helped me…or rather DID my high school government paper I had to write on the Nuclear Arms Race. I was given a B on that paper and I remember being angry because Dad should have got an A on it!

Fast forward to my own kids being little and my Dad being a better Dad to them than their own father was. When it came time for me to leave, Dad helped me get my kids away from their father to start over. Dad continued to help, by being the best father figure to my kids as he could possibly be. My kids are grown and have lives of their own, away from us but my Dad continues to be here for them and for me. He is now 80 years old and has been my best friend for the past 30+ years!

So, as far as I’m concerned, EVERY STINKIN’ DAY is Father’s Day!