By no means do I believe that I had a horrible "hard-knock" Annie-type childhood, but it also wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. For only being 25, I've experienced a lot of heartache, a lot of sadness, and a lot of fear. I also had great parents and siblings, who protected me from as much bad as they could, so when reality did hit, it hit hard.
I will not sit here and list all the things that knocked me off kilter, but lets just say the list is as long as my arm. I also know that, "it's life, sh*t happens..." But you'd think with all this "life" experience, I'd be stronger and more grounded. But nope, instead I'm even more flaky and skittish. I worry about everything, including what's the next storm to hit?
When faced with adversity, some people (take my mom and sister for example) put on their big girl panties and keep on keeping on. People look at them and ask how they do it, I don't even know. I'm on the other end of the spectrum, you know the weak one who bawls over everything and turns every mole hill into a mountain. Yup, that's me, the pansy!
As of late, its even worse than usual. December 10th was the hardest day I've ever had to face. After one month in the hospital fighting pneumonia and seizures, we had lost my dad. The man I love the most in the entire world, who taught me so much and made me feel so special, would no longer be around to laugh with, hug, and bop me upside the head for giggles.
We had 25 years together, but I must admit the last five were the most fun and memorable (second to my first five years with him). Coming home from college on weekends and holidays and going shopping and hanging out together were so much fun. And getting to spend time with him at our new home, which resides in his old stomping grounds really brought us closer together. Those moments spent roaming Portales and Clovis together meant the world to me.
My childhood memories of him are unforgettable as well. Being a stay-at-home dad is considered somewhat of a new phenomenon, and is only now beginning to be widely accepted. But dad was way ahead of the trend! He stayed at home with me (due to a back injury) while mom put on her pale blue button-up, knee-length skirt, high heels and left to go work in a man's world. Mom is one tough cookie herself, but that's a whole other blog in itself. We learned at a young age, that not everything has to be done by the book.
Dad would do my hair each morning before school and the days I swore I could do it myself, he would have to remind me that there was a back to my head, and that I needed to comb ALL of my hair, not just what I could see. He bought me a Barney watch in kindergarten and worked with me for weeks on learning how to tell time, especially that a 'quarter after 5' doesn't mean 5:25, (I was slow, still am). There were even days when I didn't feel like going to kindergarten, so I'd "miss the bus" (twice, our street was a dead end), and we'd stay home, watch the Woodright Shop on tape, eat corn dogs, and play Duck Hunter on my brothers' Nintendo.
It's no secret that my dad spoiled me rotten. The siblings may never forgive me for always getting my way, but he loved us all a tremendous amount. When I say spoiled, I don't mean that daddy's girl who was given daddy's credit card and a choice of whatever vehicle I wanted whenever I wanted. I was the girl who would follow my dad everywhere, including to every hardware store, woodworking store, book store, flea market and yard sale (not typical places for a young girl).
Each trip had something new and exciting to offer. A fountain pen set with a wide selection of colored inks, a Dummy's Guide to WWII to read prior to building a mini-concentration camp for my World History course, a 24 oz waffle-face hammer with axe handle, used baby clothes that fit my doll just perfectly, tackle box loaded with lures and fish eggs, and a tool bag that although wasn't meant for it, held school books, pens, pencils and a graphing calculator quite nicely.
By no means did material items make my world go around. But I loved that if dad was at his drafting table, I could be coloring beside him with graphing paper and colored pencils. Or if he and my brothers were out casting in the front yard, I could grab my small Shakespeare spinning reel and join them. Or my favorite was when I was old enough to begin woodworking and could be in the garage with him making my own jigsaw puzzles and spinning wooden pen and pencil sets on my mini wood lathe (that he bought me). Getting to share in his interests and passions not only made he and I happy, but also helped me to find my own.
Dad also helped me find my domestic side. He was a whiz in the kitchen and made delicious pancakes, gravy and sauteed mushrooms (never together of course). Stir-fry was also one of his favorites, but it was mostly so spicy, we couldn't eat it. He also built furniture for both my baby dolls and Barbies. My older sister also had a lot of Barbie furniture that my dad built her, so I was so grateful when she handed it down to me. Our Barbies had the biggest closet ever, Mattel couldn't even compete!!!!
Most people know that my Dad was a phenomenal woodworker and his garage was a wonderland of tools. If there's one thing that I'd say I enjoyed the most, it was the time spent in the garage with my dad. Building anything and everything I could dream up on a whim. My favorites though were a catapult (that could throw eggs from one end of the school lunch patio to the other), a guillotine that cut a carrot in half in the blink of an eye, and a 30 lb pyramid with King Tut's sarcophagus. My world history class in high school was my absolute favorite, and dad loved to hear about each new project I designed so we could start building.
When it came to wooden toys, Dad was the original Gipetto. My favorites were his yo-yos and tops. He had made each of my brothers one, and I borrowed them on numerous occasions. Dad offered to make me my own, but there was something about their broken in, perfectly used ones, so I said no thanks. In elementary when yo-yos became all the rage, my brothers' borrowed yo-yo could "sleep" the longest, "walk" the farthest, and beat any expensive Duncan Butterfly (the best store-bought one). Dad loved to watch as his crafts brought so much joy to a bunch of kids.
As a kid, I knew my dad wasn't always well and slept often because of the amount of pain he was in. But for all that he was battling (pain, sadness and very possibly PTSD), he did a lot for his wife and four children. He brought us happiness that couldn't be bought, taught us skills that many of our peers envied, and was a best friend even when we feared the rest of the world was against us. Every parent wants to give their children the best they can, and I truly believe that my mom and dad, together, did.
Dad's passing is the hardest knock I've ever been dealt, and I have been nothing but a baby in dealing with it (crying constantly, being sad in even the happiest of times, and allowing life to come to a halt because I'm too afraid to move forward without him). I believe its all a part of my personal grieving process, and as I mentioned earlier, I'm a pansy.
But I truly believe once I learn to cope with his death, I will learn to take what he taught me and begin rebuilding my life. He taught me to let things go ("water off a duck's back"), to stand up for myself, that it's okay to be hurt sometimes, but not all of the time, and most importantly he taught me how to love whole-heartedly. My dad was my world, my hero, my confidante, my best friend. I hate that he's gone, but I love that I had him for the time I did.
