it's father's day and that has me thinking of what it was like growing up with my father. the last time, i wrote about how we used to leave him at home alone on father's day while we went to the big paint-o-rama in huron. a bit of peace and quiet at home, a round of golf and a few beers with his friends was undoubtedly the best father's day present we could give him.
i thought that in honor of father's day, i'd share a few of my memories of growing up with a dad like ralph:
~ as some of you know, ralph isn't the most patient person in the world. i remember on one occasion when he attempted to teach me and a friend a bit about golf over in the swimming pool park. and i recall him rather quickly putting up his hands in frustration and wandering away. i never did really learn to golf.
~ he used to encourage monica and i to get on our horses and race. we had susie and BJ so trained for a particular race track up the second row of the shelter belt (couldn't do that today, the trees are too big!), that as soon as we turned the corner, they took off. and i always won.
~ fishing in the little green boat. i recall a storm where we were across the river. my friend was along and we were way up in the front of the boat. dad crossed in really bad conditions and on an unreliable motor. he later admitted what a white knuckle trip it had been and there were my friend and i, giggling away with each slam down into the waves, all the way across the missouri to wheeler. we're probably quite lucky to have survived the trip.
~ when we went fishing, i was constantly being cussed out for not paying enough attention. i always had a book along and would devote most of my attention to it. i'd put the fishing pole between my big toe and my second toe, so i could feel if there was a bite and i always put the book down when there was.
~ there was a lot of talk on fishing trips about setting the hook when you got a bite. after particularly violent hook settings, there was a lot of talk about fish lips, but i never did see any that had been detached from the fish.
~ when monica was really little, we were out on a particularly cold, windy day and she had on a coat with a string through the hood. she got a fish on her line and set the hook and began to reel it in. being rather little (i picture her as very little, but she was that for years, so she could very well have been 10), she would reel the correct direction for awhile and then her arm would get tired, so she'd reel for awhile in the other direction. at one point, the strings from her hood got wound onto the reel along with her line. i recall quite a lot of cussing on that occasion as well, tho' i also recall that that fish, while tired when it was finally landed, was the biggest one of the day.
so i hope my dad got to go fishing today if that's what he wanted to do. or golfing. or whatever. but i wish him a happy father's day. we'll see you in a week!
