Dad

So I have wanted to blog about my dad, but I just couldn't ever bring myself to it.  It is emotional and hard.  But I have been looking into family history and last night got a bunch of pictures from Mom to scan.  So I am going to blog about him now.  His memory isn't sneaking up on me and I have been looking at old pictures of him all day so I think I can make it through.  No promises though...;)

To preface this, I think you must know, I am a Daddy's girl.  Always have been.  I perfected that Daddy look at an early age.  I am an only daughter, granddaughter, and great-daughter on one side, so you can only imagine how far this took me. 

What I remember most about my dad is how laid back he was.  Things happened and you dealt with it.  End of story.  There was no need for planning and fretting.  Here is the problem, here is the solution; Just do it.  That is how he approached leukemia.  I remember going with my brothers and parents to Barnes Jewish Hospital in St. Louis to meet with his oncologist.  He laid it out straight.  He had a complicated cancer.  They found 2 strains of leukemia on top of the LCH disease he had initially been diagnosed with.  The way they treated strain 1 made strain 2 worse and vice versa.  The doctor and his team had come up with a plan, but there were no guarantees.  Not even any percentages.  One of the options included a bone marrow transplant.  Typically people over 60 aren't considered great candidates for one, but my dad was just 60.  He was completely healthy besides the cancer and he was willing to fight.  I think the doctor expected Dad to take the information he was given and go home and think about it.  My brothers and mom and I had questions for the Dr and we asked them, but Dad didn't really ask much.  He looked at the Dr and said "Well then let's do it."  It was pretty much, I don't need any of the explanation or reasons or percentages or timelines.  In his mind he was sick and he was going to do everything he could to get better. 

My Dad loved being a grandpa.  He loved HIS grandpa and had a great relationship with him so I think it was just natural for him to do the same.  He spent a lot of time on the floor with his grandkids.  Wrestling around or just letting them crawl all over him.  

My Dad was a fisherman.  He loved it.  Loved everything to do with it except for eating the fish.  He hated fish!  Wouldn't eat anything he caught.  My great grandparents had a pond in their back yard.  Grandpa Douglas kept it stocked.  When we would go to visit them this is what happened.  We pulled into the drive and Grandma and Grandpa would usually meet us outside.  Dad would quickly get the suitcases out of the car and take them inside.  Then he would go to the carport and get a fishing pole, get some bait out of the refridgerator on the "back porch" (which wasn't a porch but more like a mud room) and go to the pond.  After a 7 or 8 hour drive, he would go fishing.  Immediately.  After he died we were looking at pictures to give to the funeral home for a slide show they put together.  75% of them had him holding a fish, holding a fishing pole or fishing.  It was part of who he was. 

There is probably a ton more that I could say, but...yeah...He was my dad and I miss him daily.  I am so greatful for the memories I have of him.  I am greatful for the memories my kids have of him.  It sucks that we won't have more.