In honor of Father’s Day…A fun memory I wanted to share with all of you that I have with my Dad that my Mom and I were laughing about earlier.
My Dad had the misfortune/good fortune of having spawned 5 female offspring with not a penis in sight anywhere until my nephew was born in 2009. This is only important to this story because you need to understand that my Dad did not have sons and thus decided instead to train his daughters in the ways of hunting..fishing..shooting…field dressing…playing with mud…fixing cars or at least knowing what was wrong with them…and every other task a man would usually undertake should he have a said male offspring.
Now. Something else important to this story: I LOVE REPTILES and ARACHNIDS. I have since I was a kid. I have no fear of and no dislike of bugs, spiders, turtles, frogs, snakes..etc. Not an ounce. So…at 5 or 6 years old..when my Hero of a Dad pointed out a snake to me in my Grandpa’s garden and told me to pick it up..I wasn’t exactly not thrilled with the idea. I remember distinctly walking up, grabbing it behind it’s head, and running back to show him and my Grandpa.
“Good job, kiddo! Go run over and show your Mom what you’ve got”.
It is further important to note that my Dad had a wicked sense of humor because of said lack of additional testosterone in our family and I think took it upon himself to be a roaring asshole occasionally for a laugh. I, completely innocent and oblivious to the prank my Dad was using me for, ran straight up to my Mom with a bright green garter snake in my hand.
“Mamma, look what I got!” *holds up*
My Mom, unlike me, is terrified of reptiles and arachnids. As was my Grandmother. And both my Dad and my Grandpa were WELL aware of this as they stood waiting for what happened next.
Mom did the full blown spread eagle scream, threw her coffee off the picnic table where she was sitting, and proceeded to start running toward the house. I then chased my Mom almost straight into the house with the snake until she was actually stopped at the door trying to slap the thing out of my hand. At this point, my Grandmother came out to find out what all the hoopla was and screamed at the top of her lungs just as my Mom successfully got me to let go of the snake. I was then rushed into the house and made to scrub my hands with Lava soap while my Grandmother stood behind me going “omg Laurie, those things have GERMS! Make sure she scrubs those hands”.
What I remember most though? My Dad and Grandpa almost rolling on the ground LOSING IT laughing because of how well my Dad’s little trick actually worked lol
Father’s Day is always a double edged sword. We (the said collective daughters of darkness we) lost our Dad on June 24th, 2013 after a several year battle with thyroid cancer. We’d just “celebrated” our last Father’s Day with our Dad several days before that – with him being in the hospital on a ventilator, unable to talk to any of us, and spending the day making decisions on what to do next. I remember crying in the car with the absolute realization that I was never going to talk to my Dad again. I was never going to hear his voice again. I was never going to get to spend evenings on Facebook messenger just shooting the breeze with the man who gave me my life.
It’s in these moments, even 7 years later, that I try really hard to remind myself of who my Dad was before everything: back when I was his little girl who was up for anything he said because I knew my Dad would never hurt me. Back when he was the strongest man I knew. Back when he was my Hero. Back when every person in our neighborhood was terrified of him because he was the big guy with the mass of black wild hair, the sparkling blue eyes, the tattoos, the plaid, and the motorcycles. Back when he was my Dad. And I think it is important to remember those we lose in the ways that would make them most happy to be remembered.
Happy Father’s Day in the Summerlands, Dad ❤
