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This post was pure unadulterated Christina--a hoot!

(I would like to know what the adultered version is like )

My father’s advice: Nothing in the world is worth getting too upset about. Make life easy on and for yourself.

well my dad did not so much as give me advice on relationships. But he was the one who taught me to do housework - laundry, sweeping the floor etc - properly. But one incident I remember well was when he found out I was dating an Indian boy. A month later I think, he bought me a cookbook on Indian cuisine.

My dad and I were very close.  I’m the oldest child and only daughter in a sea of boys.  I knew from my earliest years that my dad would always be in my corner, no matter what. 

Dad gave me a lot of advice over the years but what I remember most was something he told me three years ago, when he was in the final stages of cancer.  I traveled extensively in my youth and loved exploring new places but hadn’t been overseas in more than 25 years.  He knew how much I wanted to travel again, especially to Europe but a series of events had made me afraid.  He held my hands, looked into my eyes and said, “Don’t let someone else control your fears.  Live your dreams and know when you pass from this life that you are doing so with no regrets, as I am.” Just as he had held my hands when I was learning to walk, and steadied my bike when I was learning to ride, with those few words he returned to me my confidence, my courage and my dreams.

I love you, Dad.  I miss you.  Thank you.

I’m an only child, so I got to go with dad to all the car races, boat shows and hardware stores..(I still love the smell of wood)..

Men are weird, but they are also basic, yes or no, right or left, make up your mind!

The best advise (and what I try to tell my kids) is don’t beat around the bush, if you don’t like some guy, end it, don’t take his gifts/calls/dates and just string him along. In the end this has been invaluable.

My dad taught me the value of education because he didn’t go to college - he insisted I go to college and law school because “I’d always have something to fall back on”. He was right. And he was wrong b/c how in the world could I go back to law after sixteen years of not practicing and not keeping up w/the continuing legal ed classes? However, I believe his advice led me to where I am today. In a bassackwards way. Great post, Christina!  I’m very close with my dad.

Your pictures touched me and your words made me laugh. My dad was a “something to fall back on” guy, too. He wanted me to take typing in the worst way. So I indulged him the summer between freshman and sophmore years of college, but I left at the break of the adult ed class to make out with my boyfriend (notice I didn’t say hook up). I still can’t type but I did practice my kissing so there were some benefits. Except eventually I messed up on “The boys are only after one thing” lecture too.

Wow, now you’re gonna make me cry this early in the morning!
Well, my father died from Lou Gherig’s Disease which is a neuromuscular disease that causes you to loose all muscle function though you are mentally fully alert.  He was in a wheelchair and ventilator dependant for years but that never stopped him from taking trips from Florida to New York (my mom and sister were the cheuffer).  He always told me never let ANYTHING hold you back from being happy.  And he always told me that no matter how bad you think you have it, there is always someone in this world who is worse off than you!
I never realized how many people my father touched until he died.  At the funeral, there was standing room only and that was with us begin given the biggest chapel in the building!

My dad taught me how to change a tire because he thought it was a skill every girl/woman should know.

He taught me how to drive a straight-shift (an exercise in patience if there ever was one!)

He liked to play nearly as much as I did and some of my happiest childhood memories involve bouncing around in the waves on a giant innertube with him at Carolina Beach.

He’s the kind of dad who was in the front row of every play I ever did and who still is so proud of me that he sells my books out of the trunk of his car.

Great topic Christinia!

My dad was very busy with his businesses when I was young, so I did not see him too much.  But sometimes, in the evenings, after my bath, I would sit on the floor in front of his lazy boy, and he would brush my hair. 

When I was a teen, we found ourselves talking one night alone and he told me straight out, “All men are scum, I oughta know, I’m a man.  We only want one thing when we’re young.  Don’t believe anything else we say.”. 

He also has a great mathmatical mind.  He can calculate faster than calculator.  He tried to teach me the best way to figure numbers. I admit, I need a calculator.

He tells me I turned out to be a good person and he’s proud of me.  I couldn’t ask for more than that. 

Sorry Christina, I spelled your name wrong again.

Just do like I do, Prudence, and call her “Xtina.” You can’t take the Christ out of Christmas but you can take the Christ out of...oh...never mind…

My dad was very busy and stressed when I was young, so we weren’t very close.  That changed when I wrecked his car at age 16.  I called my mom and begged her not to tell him (like he wouldn’t notice a completely demolished front end) because I was so afraid of how much trouble I’d be in.  He came from work to the accident, and literally ran to make sure I was okay, not even glancing at the car.  When I started apologizing for the car, and his response was “don’t worry about it, we have insurance”, I finally realized how much he loved me.  We’ve had a great relationship ever since.

Although, thanks to him, I know much, much more about engines than I ever thought I would.  And I can change a tire and check the oil.  And Maggie, I also took that “fall back on” typing class, which actually helped me get my first few jobs.  Dad was right, in my case!

This is a great blog Christina and I’ve mopped up a few tears reading the responses.

There were 12 of us in my family so I didn’t see much of my dad while I was growing up as he worked 2, sometimes 3 jobs to keep a roof over our head and food on the table.

Like Teresa though, he did make sure I learned how to change a tire. 

Most of the things my dad taught me were not what he said, but what he did.  Because of his example I learned the value of hard work, how to be self-sufficient, how to be pro-active instead of re-active. 

But most of all he taught me how to love a good book.  My dad and I would swap books all the time, everything from Louis Lamour to Danielle Steele.  I always thought it was cool that my dad would openly read romance novels.

The only thing that my dad tried to teach me that I refused to learn was how to milk the cow that we rented.  My argument was that I had six brothers who could milk the darn thing.

My dad is still fit and healthy and the smartest person I know and this is the year of my parents 50th anniversary.

Ah, Daddy’s!  In 1945 when my mother walked out, my father was given custody and raised me, a little girl of 4 in an era where father’s getting custody was unheard of.  What kind of dad was he?  He let me put his hair in pincurls, taught me to skate, ride a bike, pulled me on a sled in the snow.  Some of his words of wisdom were:  “no one can ask you to do anymore than your best” and “actions speak louder than words.

My dad was a real he-man.  A tool and dye maker by trade.  Handsome, to boot.  But he always had time to let me sit in his lap, took me everywhere with him, to the junkyard, the gas station, to work some Saturdays and even let me sit on the toilet seat while he shaved so that I could chatter on.  He used to ask “who put the nickle in you?”.......Did he make me who I am today?  You better believe it.  Father’s CAN raise children.  They can do a good job, too.  Thank you, Daddy

Like Teresa, my dad taught me how to change a tire, and he also taught me how to start my car with a screw driver (don’t ask!!) He said it was important that I know how to do that to keep myself safe when on the road.

As far as “wisdom”...my dad was a man of few words, so he never said much...he just taught by example. To this day, I have a hard time throwing away stuff “because I might need it someday!” LOL!

well now I gotta come back and ‘splain. My dad is the original curmudgeon. ANd we love him that way. And I did neglect to tell you the most important thing he ever said to me:

“I’m really proud of you, Connie.”

First thing that comes to mind -

Do as I say not as I do.  (Dad was a bit of a chauvinist.  He was 1 of 5 boys growing up so he was very protective and overly strict.)

He was really big on lying.  I learned quickly I was in more trouble if I lied about it than if I came clean and admitted whatever it was.

I remember the boys only want one thing speech (over and over again)

Dates should come to the door to pick you up not beep from the driveway or sidewalk.

He was big on the car stuff - made sure I could do basic things and drive stick or automatic, drive in rain and snow, etc…

I also remember the first time I totalled the car I was so scared my dad was going to freak and never let me drive again.  Instead he freaked til he saw I was alright and said the car can be replaced.  I knew after that he loved me more than any material things.

Teresa’s dad and mine must have grown up in the same era. I was not allowed to drive a car until I mastered three things: driving a stick shift, changing a tire, and knowing how to check all the fluid levels in my car.

He also wouldn’t tolerate fear. Immediately after watching Jaws (the most terrifying movie EVER at the time) we had a family vacation at Daytona Beach. I REFUSED to get in the water, and my father simply picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, walked into the ocean and dumped me.

Then he blocked my way into the shore, and I found I could overcome my fears when I had to…

I still do that to this day.

Wow, great blog and these are wonderful responses.  When my mom was pregnant with me, dr. said it was a boy. Since they already had my older sister, they were ecstatic.  One of each and they were done.  Imagine their surprise.  (They did eventually have two boys) Instead of pouting for his boy, my dad decided he could do most anything with me he would do with a son.

When I was 7, I had a riding lawn mower (no blade) for a go-cart and when I was 8 we restored an old bicycle together.

My dad is a mechanic so I have worked on cars with him forever - getting the tire changing lesson like many others was a must.  I can take my car to a shop and not worry about getting duped.  Knowledge is power you know.

I don’t remember much advice but I do remember him telling me I could complicate anything.  Maybe that was his way of telling me not to complicate things.  I do remember him telling me I could do anything I wanted and I’ve always believed that.  He gave me his blue eyes, his (somewhat perverted) sense of humor and his temper.  I’ve manage to work on improving the last *g* but I’m thankful for the first two and I’m glad he’s my dad.

When I was 2 and my sister was newborn, my parents divorced and my dad got custody of me while my sister stayed with our mother. My stepmom always says she fell in love with him on the train one day because of me. He let me colour on a napkin. With his fountain pen. Using his knee for a table. Did I mention he was wearing tan pants?

My dad taught me many things by example, and not so many things by talking (though he talks endlessly LOL). He taught me that, when things are tough, you work harder to get through them. He taught me that our brains are adaptable, and we are always smarter than we think we are, and capable of more than we know. He taught me that it is important to not take life too seriously, that if you don’t enjoy your life, you’ve missed the whole point.

As for verbal advice, he’s real big on “If a job is worth doing, it is worth doing right, and if you aren’t willing to do it right, don’t bother doing it at all” - a statement that caused me all sorts of grief as I struggled to come to terms with a body that just won’t cooperate.

My dad passed away when I was 3. I don’t know too much about him, but he was a Air Force man, big and manly. Thing is, my grandmother gave me a beautiful pottery pitcher he made when he was 22. I love that he made it and will keep it in a honored spot forever.

My grandfather who i grew up with and still cal dad always shared this little bit of wisdom with me: “Don’t trust anyone who ain’t Irish. They lie and their too sober.”

-Lisa

My dad always taught me…

“life isn’t fair, the fair comes in august”

“save, save, save, invest, invest, invest...money--make your money make you money”

he also instilled in me the strong desire to work hard and be the best of the best...not always a good thing, but overall helpful.

Also, Christina, I finished Tongue in Chic....so wonderful.

My dad and I didn’t talk. I was one of five children - four girls. My dad didn’t like girls. He had a way of making you feel like you were always in trouble.

I do remember him bringing me a doll, a bracelet, taking us to Disney World. But the thing I remember most was a vague feeling that my dad didn’t like me.

All of the useful things he could have taught me he never did. He told me nothing about boys because I was not allowed to date until I was old enough to get married and only then as a preface to marriage. He taught me nothing about cars because he wasn’t going to get me one - when I got myself a husband with a car it could be HIS responsibility. No direction about college or careers because - even though I was one of the top students in school - I wasn’t supposed to go to college. All those opportunities wasted simply because I wasn’t a boy. The one thing my dad really showed us how to do well was hold a grudge and I never quite picked up on the technique. I make sure he knows I love him and I bring the kids to see him. But we’ll never be close.

This is really from my grandfather, who sorta counts seeing as how he was a father--just not mine.  He was a good Cajun man and this was his caveat on the dangers of becoming too taken with one’s self.

“Never spit too high.  It most likely will fall back in your face.”

I didn’t have the best relationship with my father.  I always wanted a touchy, feely Daddy I could cuddle with.  A Daddy whose lap I could climb onto for a bedtime story or for comfort.  Instead I had a Father who believed his sole job as father consisted of working, providing for his family and giving them all a good education and religious upbringing.  I didn’t have the Daddy I always wanted, and for a long time I resented him for it and blamed him for a lot of my childhood angst, but now I try to appreciate the man my father was.

My dad DID give me some good things.  He taught by his actions.  He taught me to be responsible, dependable, honest, hard working, and that doing a good job is important.  He wasn’t a man that spoke about feelings or emotions, but as he was dying he made a point of apologizing for not being what I needed him to be and told me he was proud of the person I’d become. So, I suppose, he also inadvertently taught me that change, no matter how old, is also possible.  He also gave me a big, wonderful, close knit family that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

Just a side note – my DH is the Daddy to our kids I always dreamed of having.  His emotions are on his sleeve.  He laughs, he cries, he is cuddly and playful and a handier man you could never find.  He’s already bought her a box of nails for her birthday from Menard’s.  It’s an ongoing joke in our family.  She’s going to be telling stories about how her Dad gave her power tools and taught her to change the oil and tire on her car.

He’s also a terrific husband and was actually the one to help me see that my Dad wasn’t a bad guy - just doing the best he was capable of, like we all are.  He helped me to see this before my Dad died, when it would have been too late for me to make my peace with him

Nothing like getting up and reading the comments and both laughing and crying. Great stories, you all!

I’ve met Connie’s father, and he wasn’t a curmudgeon. He was charming.

“Never spit too high.  It most likely will fall back in your face.” DebbieJ, that’s wonderful!

Yes, both our kids (and me) know how to drive a clutch. In fact, those are our cars of choice. But I have never changed a tire.

Thank you, peachy! Everyone’s been so generous about TONGUE IN CHIC, I’ve been happy all month. You can imagine how much the other Squawkers want to slap me.

The “her” in the above post is my daughter.  Sorry about that didn’t proofread real well.

Prudence, it’s okay to spell my name wrong. I actually have an autocorrect in MS Word for my own name, because it’s just one of those words that begs for typos.

And Teresa, the ancient Christians used “X” to designate Christ—they used it on the walls in the catacombs—the X was a symbol of the cross. So actually, there is Christ is Xmas, and my name, however you spell it, means “Christian.”

Oh yeah and other thing Dad taught me.

“Don’t sit around on your butt at work and charge someone for it. If you have no work, go find some.”

This advice has helped me so much in getting and keeping a great job.

Cheers,
Xtina’s oldest daughter

My Dad is my hero.  He is the man I measure all other men against.  My very first memory is of my Father, I was about 2 years old and I was laughing and so was he.  He just turned 70 this year and I can’t imagine life without him.

My Dad was an Engineer(retired) for 45 years at Sunshine Biscuits and totally mechanical.  I learned and still can change the oil of my car(due to Jiffy Lube-no longer), change a flat tire(due to AAA, no longer) and can assemble just about anything (by reading the directions and seeing that all the pieces were there before we started the assembling). Those were great times. We still assemble things together but now he’s the “Candy Man” very busy making chocolates for all family occasions and enjoying his retirement.

I’ve been laughing and tearing up over all the stories.  What great stories y’all have.  Thanks for sharing them.

I was the youngest of 5 kids and born when my parents were older.  My father was 47 when I was born and I was his ‘baby daughter’ until the day he passed away.  It wasn’t so much what he said, but what he did that let you know he loved you.  He worked in a gas station, so I knew how to pump gas for myself way before it became fashionable.  And yes, I knew how to check all the important fluid levels and to change a tire.  I’d get ready to go back to college he’d ask if I had enough money.  If I said no, he’d ask if I wanted a nickel or a dime.  One year while I was in college, I went to the Kentucky Derby.  I had called and asked for some money and he said no problem.  A few days later, he sent the $10 it cost to get into the infield and an extra $20 just in case I saw a horse I wanted to buy!  That was my daddy’s humor. 

I lost my father almost exactly 14 years ago and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him.  All of us kids knew that no matter what we did, our father would give us a hug and tell us everything would be alright.

"Swing early and swing often.” It aplied to softball practice and in life.

He also taught me everything - I mean everything - there is to know about hockey.

My dad is the strong, silent type.  He never has much to say so you know when he does speak, you better pay attention.

Basically, he taught me to take the time to do things right.  If you rush through things, you’ll end up missing something and you’ll have to go back and fix it anyway.  Better to do it right the first time.

He also said, “Don’t upset your mother.  I have to live with her.” Of course, they’ve been married for 57 years, so I guess he knows what he’s talking about.

At the beginning of each new relationship, my dad would always say to me, “Look for the shit, Julianne, because if you can live with the shit, you can live with the guy.”

And during the most difficult time of my life, he hauled me out of the house, made me put on old shoes and walked me out into the woods (not to shoot me, mind you). He told me to follow him and when we got to the river, he stepped right in and trudged through to the other side. 

We sat down on a log on the other side and while I bawled beside him, he said, “I’ve never seen the river from this point of view.  And going through it was neither bad nor good--it just was--but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at this river the same way again.” He often speaks deeply about life through analogies.

He’s pretty unbelievable, actually.  He’s a choral conductor who worships Bach, can fix anything on earth, and has a whole repertoire of damned fine fart jokes.

My daddy made me learn how to change tires.  He also wanted me to know how much things should cost to fix (plumber, mechanic)... As for advice:
Never write checks your butt can’t cash.
Be humble in victory and gracious in defeat.
Things with cords are NOT gifts.
Listen to your friends, sometimes a frog is a frog.
Always have $20 for a cab.

Hahahah that post made my day.

Before I left for college, my dad made sure I knew how to check the oil in my car. He never gave me tools, but I inherited passion for history, so I think he was content in talking with me about history and politics. Still is I can’t recall if ever gave me any flat out advice. I’d have to think on that.

I don’t think I was every very much of a girly girl or a tom boy, so that kept me on equal ground with my parents. I ran with both crowds, and always had a low tolerance for idiots in either. Actually, I have more guy friends than girl friends, surprisingly. But where I grew up and where I went to college, I was surrounded by a lot of girls that my personality clashed with. ("What do you MEAN you READ?! You understand PHYSICS?” Yeah...high school was tough.)

I love some of the advice all these father’s have given!

I read this first thing in the morning and decided to come back because I didn’t want to start crying so early in the morning.  What wonderful stories!  I’m glad this is today’s topic as it’s usually mothers people focus on.

I’m told I look exactly like my father’s mother.  She died a year before I was born.  When I was a teen, my father told me that I was the only thing of his mother that he had.

My father never spoke about the boy/girl thing, but I learned (much to my sister’s expense and mortification) to only bring good, hardworking, honest, and honorable men to my parents’ door.  My father is a quick study and listens to his instincts.  If his gut told him no! the second he laid eyes on the guy, he would politely say not, but would refuse to shake the guys/hand.  This silent behavior made me very, very selective.  Luckily, my dh passed with flying colors.

Oh, and my father shared his love of laughter and a good joke with me.  I just love that!

Deb

That’s good to know, Xtina.  Now if we could only get the devil out of you

(And I kid you not.  My verification word is hell31.  Spooky!)

I should read what I write first .  I meant:

If his gut told him no! the second he laid eyes on the guy, he would politely say hello, but would refuse to shake the guys/hand.

What amazing posts and what a great topic Xtina!

My Dad and I aren’t close. He’s never told me he is proud of me - I’ve never been good enough. Maybe his relationship is tainted by his illness (multiple sclerosis). To say patience isn’t his strong suit is a HUGE understatement.

On the other hand, Poppa (Dad’s dad) and I were very close. I saw were because he passed away 3 weeks ago. I used to joke and say he was the only one in the family I could rely on. It’s weird - the more I try and think of the advice he gave me the more my mind is a blank. He taught me how to check the oil and water in the car, we even concreted a small piece of the driveway last year. He knew more about computers than almost anyone I know...he did say make sure you own your own home when you retire! I even told my grandmother, when she was hassling me about getting married a few years ago, that I would do so when I met someone as wonderful as Poppa. He made a face at me. We’re not an emotional family at all, but I remember how upset he looked when I went to the UK. I know he loved me even though he never said it to me and I’m positive he knew I loved him.

orannia

Even though my parents divorced when I was 2, my dad and I have always been really close.  I, too, did the whole “handy” thing with him--many a Saturday was spent at his side as he sanded, painted, sawed, or nailed something, and he always let me do something to help.

He also gave me the gift of laughter.  He always, always, ALWAYS had time to joke with us or make us laugh.  I have very fond memories of “The Silly Face Game” in particular.  When he’d leave for work, he’d duck down behind the lower half of the back door, and then bob back up several times where the window was, each time revealing another weird face.  More than once, milk or OJ shot out of our noses across the table at his silliness.  He probably walked into work 5 minutes late on those days, but he didn’t care, because it was more important that we started out the day with a good laugh.

Hi Christina!
Dropped by to tell you how much I liked your romancenovel.tv spot. Love your hairstyle. I always wished I had the nerve to make mine spikey all over but I’m afraid I’d look too much like a porcupine since my head is small!

My two favorite Dadisms:
“Don’t cry if you end up crying.”
and
“The way to a man’s heart is not through his stomach - but it is nearby.”

LOL…
Sophia Nash

My dad taught me to swim...and do backflips in the water, while standing in the stirrup of his hands.

He taught me how to change a tire...which comes in handy often since I go through more tires than Carl Edwards.

He taught me how to use tools; he taught me how to weed in the garden; he taught me how to fish.

He took me to Sunday School every week until I declared myself too old to go (around 18)--and though you may take the girl out of the church, you’ll never take the church out of the girl.

He gives much, helps whenever he can (even if the person he’s helping is someone who drives him crazy), and is extremely humble.  When I was in college (and I didn’t drive at the time), he took me to and from my dorm room on the weekends I could come home because he knew how miserable I was. 

He’d give me motorcycle rides around the farm--and he played the fiddle to entertain my friends and me.  He played Wiffle Ball with me.  He instilled the importance of visiting family...even if they don’t remember who you are for half the visit.

When I get excited about a costume or project, if there is a way for him to contribute, he will.  I was making an Elizabethan corset and I said I needed a busk--and he made me one out of wood.  It was perfect...and he totally doesn’t get my hobby of making costumes.

Xtina, I’m going to disagree with you a little bit. I didn’t have my dad either and I missed it deeply. Its probably one of the worst issues I still deal with. We talk now and are friendly but I’ll always wonder what it would have been like to have a Daddy there. In my heart I know my life would have been incredibly different and most likely a lot better. I’ve never heard the words I love you or I’m proud of you and I’ll always mourn that. My dad’s never given me advice or really taught me anything other than to play Rummykub.
He did give me his intense sweet tooth just not the metabolism to go with it *g*

Wonderful, heartwarming stories today! Love them.

My Dad is the typical work all day and let Mom deal with the kids kind of dad. He did teach me how to know the value of a dollar. His biggest piece of advice or the words he always seemed to be saying over and over “do not run the washing machine half full!!” He is an amazing guy who also taught me how to pull apart anything in our house to at least try to fix it.  I never could but oh well.

Wonderful, wonderful posts. They reminded me of how wonderful fathers can truly be. My dad brought me to the library for the first time and when I finished my books that day brought me back again.
He always said, “Once you get it up here they can’t take it away.” His push for how important education was.

He bought me a microscope, chemistry set and electric motor. Now my job doesn’t have any thing to do with those kinds of things but I do love technology and am not afraid to connect things together. So I can thank him for his belief in me.

I love how my husband has found his own connections with our daughters.

What great stories you all have about your fathers or grandfathers! Thank you so much for sharing. Angel—LOL on “do not run the washing machine half full!!” Now that sounds like me!

Teresa, if we get the devil out of me, you’d have to be devilish on your own. We wouldn’t want that, would we?

Sophia, thanks for dropping by! And thanks for the kudos on the hair. I always know I’ve been successful with my hair if my children hate it.    I do like your dad’s “The way to a man’s heart is not through his stomach - but it is nearby.”

To my father Education was the ticket to success.  He (trying to motiviate me in my studies) constantly reminded me that without schooling all I’d be good for was washing floors!

It always managed to infuriate me.  I kept thinking he didn’t have much esteem for his daughter if all he could envision for me was a life of drudgery.  I hate any kind of housework though, so it made me ‘show him’ that I was better than that.

I ended up taking a secretarial course and did work in an insurance company for 5 years once I finished the course.  Then I met my husband and quickly got married and had children.

Well Dad, I guess you were right in the end, cause I spend my days cleaning house for a living..... 

My Dad was a city policeman during the tense race riots of the late 50’s and 60’s. The most important thing he taught the eight of us was that “garbage comes in all colors”. Never judge anyone by the color of his skin.

I had a wallet-sized oil copy of my senior portrait done for my Dad. When he said he didn’t have a pictures of me, I asked where the my senior portrait was. He told me there was a wonderful nurses aide that worked in the nursery when I was born. Years later he saw her and she told him how she had kept track of all the babies she took care of when they were born. She had dozens of scrap books with pictures and news clippings about all of “her children”. So, my Dad gave her the wallet-sized oil portrait of me for her scrap book.

He was a great Dad. He died 31 years ago and I still miss him every day.

Wonderrful blog! Your stories moved me to laughter and to tears.

“Get an education” was my dad’s favorite piece of advice through my growing up years. My sister and I still laugh, however, when we remember an Honor’s reception when my sister completed her undergraduate work (with a summa cum laude degree and a national Phi Kappa Phi fellowship) and our dad saying ruefully to a professor,"I brought my children up to value education, but I didn’t know that they would be in school for the rest of their lives.”

From the time I was old enough to leave the house without a parent until shortly before he died, every time I left him, he said, “Behave yourself,” his reminder to stay true to all I had been taught.

But the words I remember most are the ones he said to me when I had to have stitches, when I lost a contest, when the man I loved was killed, and all the other crises of my life, “It’ll be alright, baby; it’ll be alright.” It wasn’t, of course, but it always made things easier to know Daddy was doing all he could to keep my world all right.

I miss him, but I am so grateful that I was blessed to have him with me until after I passed the half-century mark.

My father was always very over protective of me when I was growing up.  I didn’t get to do a lot of the things my friends were doing like sleepovers or going out dancing at the local disco.  The only way I could go there was if my older brother came along.  LOL, it was me dragging him home!

He was never a man given to constant praise.  If we excelled in school, he would quietly nod his head.  There were no boasts to one and all about what great kids we were.  Certainly never in front of us.  He felt that to do so would bring bad luck into our lives.  Did I mention he was also very superstitious? 

But my brothers and I knew he was proud of us...my accomplishments in school, my choice for a husband and my brothers’ successes and initiatives in our business...because he would always speak proudly of them in front of me and visa versa.  It was just his way.

He sought our opinion when he opened the store and that if we didn’t want it, he wouldn’t go for it.  He didn’t need to consult us at 17, 14 and 11 but he did and valued us enough to be a part of that monumental decision.

He was a great man.  He was both hard and soft.  I am proud to have called him my father.

My dad was not an advice kind of guy.  He did teach me many things though.  He taught me that even though I wasn’t his biologically I was still his little girl.  He taught me how men were supposed to love women.  He also taught me that life’s supposed to be fun.  When you’re in the car by yourself or with a group of friends don’t be afraid to turn the music up and sing your heart out.  He also taught me how to drive a stick shift...that was one of the better gifts lol!  He also taught me never to put up with anybody elses crap. OH!  He did give me one piece of advice.  “Don’t ever lean on another person too much or you’ll fall flat on your face when they leave you” Thanks Dad.

my security word is usually49...My dad would have been 49 in a couple of weeks. lol

I am really really close to my dad. He’s not the handy man type, not a car guy either, not big on technology or gadgets (he’s still a little befuddled with telephones and remote controls); he’s not even the “I’ll hurt anyone who hurts you” type either. Yet, this man has managed to show me the world. He started my love of reading romance, and teases me about my preferences. He introduced me to world religions, world history, movie trivia, and good ol’ jokes, even the dirty kinds, lol. He taught me how to cook, gets involved with my knitting projects, front-row centre at every school play, even if I wasn’t in it.

In so many ways, I would have to say my dad is my best-friend. I never keep secrets from him, he’s always the first person I turn to whenever I have a problem, and his good opinion matters to me more than anybody elses.

His bits of advice to me are:

“You can do whatever you want in this life, as long as it doesn’t cost me a penny” - in other words, we had to learn to deal with consequences for our actions.

“There’s no harm in asking/trying” - You can’t just give up cause you’re too afraid to try.

Ah, I have arrived a bit late to your party Christina…
But I couldn’t resist posting about …tools.
My father was, when he was younger, one of the biggest…no other way to put this…Male Chauvinist Pigs that ever walked the face of the planet. Men had their role in life And women had theirs. Period. I don’t know if the advent of Feminism changed the old man’s attitude. Or if it had something to do with God “gifting” my pops with three daughters. 
Yes, there are 2 others out there just like me.
Scary isn’t it?
Anyway, my Dad thought that it was hysterical to show his girls how to do “guy stuff”.

We learned to fly-fish, toss fancy pitches like the “split fingered knuckle ball” and throw a football in a perfect spiral. When my older sister almost broke her nose playing football with the boys…my Mom had a fit. But my Dad just handed my sis a bag of ice and bought her a helmet! He let us carry pocket knives. And he showed us how to sharpen them. We learned to drive a nail in straight, mow the lawn, saw wood with a hand saw, and set a screw properly. Then, when I had mastered the mystery of hand tools my Dad took out …yeah you guessed it, The Craftsman. I’ll never forget the wicked gleam in my Dad’s eyes when he showed me how to use a scrolling saw while my Mom stood on the porch yelling “she’s gonna cut her fingers off!”
Ah such lovely childhood memories…
The things I learned from my Father? Be self sufficient. He taught me not to wait for someone else to come along and fix a leaky pipe, a broken chair or a broken relationship. I have to Do it myself. And if I don’t know how to fix those things then it is my responsibility to find out how to fix them. The answer is out there…somewhere…and I will find it if I have enough patience and courage.

Why you should buy your Daughter an electric Power Tool
AND teach her how to use them.

My father raised me to be Independent. When he taught me how to use power tools he also taught me how to face a problem head on. When he challenged me to fix something that I had no idea how to fix He showed me that there is nothing wrong in admitting that you don’t have all of the answers. He encouraged me to seek out answers & take charge of My Own Education.
By learning to use Power tools, I learned the skills that would enable me to take power over the direction of my Life.
And …I learned to over come my fears! You can cut your fingers off with those things ya know!