Bragging Rights

I love to brag about my Dad, doesn't every kid? When I was younger, I would brag that my Dad would ride his bike to work, and back. Everyday that the weather was good, he would come puffing up the hill, red faced and sweaty from the upward journey home in the heat of the day. I thought he was so cool! I used to brag that he owned his own business too. For awhile, he did custom made signs that business's attached to their car doors or shop windows. He even let us kids get in on the action by selling customized Christmas Greetings to the neighbors, we thought we were so cool. By the time I was a teen-ager, my Dad had fully embraced his adventurous side and taken up hang-gliding. He would soar in the sky like a graceful bird, and I the proud peacock. It wasn't the cool thing to do when you were a teen-ager to brag about your parents, so I'm sure I didn't give him the kudos he deserved, but now that I'm forty-something, and my Dad is 70, I feel even greater pleasure to brag about him a little, it is Fathers Day after all.
A couple of days ago, my Dad and brother in-law Tom, fulfilled a lifetime dream of my Dad's. I remember as a kid, everytime we would make the 4 hour trip to my mothers hometown in good ol' Lyman UT, my Dad would mention how he would love to someday take the trip on his bike. Well, this week he did it! They biked the 200 miles down, and alot of ups over the big mountain, and made it back in 2 pieces (cuz there was 2 of them). I'm so proud of him! He still hang-glides too, and did I mention he wind surfs as well? But I would sound shallow if I only mentioned his physical triumphs. I have far more to brag about his high morals and integrity.
I remember when I was quite young, my Dad promised to take us camping over the weekend. We looked forward to it all week, and when Friday finally rolled around and Dad came home from work, we were beside ourselves with anticipation! Only one problem, Dad was sick. I'm sure as kids we were self-centered and acted all put out and disappointed that our weekend getaway would be put on hold, but before we even got our hankies wet with tears, Dad was loading up the station wagon and reassuring Mom he would be fine. He made a promise to us kids that he would take us fishing and camping, and he wasn't going to break his promise. There are few memories that really stick out of my childhood like that one, I'll never forget it.
Another memory that I don't have of my Dad, is of him swearing. I have never, ever heard my Dad swear. He had seven kids, so I consider that a miracle of sorts. I love to hear the story told by my sisters about the night that he could have sworn, probably should have cussed, but he didn't. It was late at night, everyone was in bed, and my Dad got up to probably get a drink of water. Down the dark hallway he went, turning the corner to walk into the kitchen, and "BAM", someone closed the sliding door from the living room into the kitchen, and my Dad walked face first into it. He probably said ouch or something, no one is quite sure, because my sisters were too busy giggling after hearing the exchange between the door and my dad. This did stir a reaction from my Dad, he hollered, "Shut Up! It's not funny!" which made them laugh all the more...it still makes me laugh just thinking about it, (sorry Dad, but it really is funny).
I have so many fond memories growing up with my Dad. He was always so funny and loved to make us laugh. Whether it was our turn on pop-goes-the-weasel, or airplane rides as he spun us around by our hands and feet.
From my Dad I got my love of reading, my love of singing, my hairy body and my gift of weeping. I try to emmulate his integrity, his honesty, his sense of humor and positive outlook.

Now if I can just figure out how to bloody stop swearing.

Love you Dad! Happy Fathers Day!