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Sunday is fathers day, and I know we will all be remembering our father or someone who was like a father to us..I thought this would be a good idea to keep all our tributes in the same place..Might even be a good idea to have it as a sticky until Monday or Tuesday..What do you think and who's first
We plan on honoring my husband this Sunday. He actually gets real breakfast cooked for him (this only happens here on Christimas and Father's day) and a day to just hang out and do what he wants to do.
None of my fathers (count 'em, four--one biological, three step) was particularly nice, but can I honor my Grampa here?
I spell his name "Grampa" because that's how my sister and I, as little girls, pronounced it, and I shall forever remember him as Grampa, and Gramma as Gramma.
Grampa was a devout Catholic but for some weird reason had a little wooden statue of Buddha on his hearth. My sister and I often commented that Grampa looked like Buddha with hair. He was always smiling (when around us, anyway), had a big tummy that was wonderful to lie on top of, and, an old man in terrible health, nonetheless got right down there and played with us, whenever we wished.
When Gramma, who was also wonderful, would admonish us not to dip into the caramels before dinner, it was Grampa who snuck us one or two. "Don't tell your grandmother!"
Grampa taught me what borscht was (ick), and how to make pierogies, pronounced "pee-rah-hay". He joked that the dough was done when you could throw it at the ceiling and it would stick. To which Gramma would always scream, from wherever she was in the house, with that supernatural hearing she had, "Don't you DARE throw dough at my clean ceilings!" But I knew she was secretly laughing, just like we were. He would then further try to gross Gramma out by telling us kids, loudly, that making pierogies was the best way to get one's fingernails clean.
Grampa loved the Mets, and even in the 1970s was still calling the Dodgers "the Brooklyn Dodgers". They would always remain so to him.
He came from the Ukraine. He painted houses for a living. With hard work, he managed to buy himself a house and later help his children to buy houses, and to leave funds for his grandchildren for their education.
He had gray-blue eyes. Sometimes when I look into my middle son's gray eyes, I see my grandfather.
My grandfather died when I was almost 8 years old, of his fourth heart attack. Someone driving behind him saw him quietly pull over to the side of the road, knowing he was dying, but not wanting to cause an accident that would hurt perfectly healthy people.
I'll be making a special Sunday Dinner for us and for my husbands father. My father died in '92 and I will have him in my heart. My step-dad and mom own a restaurant and will be busy serving the hoards that swamp them on Sundays, and this being a holiday, it will be tough.
My sincere hope is that our pool will be completed and we can all take a nice dip to relax and cool off from this extreme heat wave.
What to get for the men in my life for Father's day used to drive me nuts. I now simply cook them a great meal, we have the day to be with one another and usually I give them a nice card. As I have grown older, my way of looking at things has changed. I value time spent with someone oh so much more than a fancy gift. Gifts are a dime a dozen and soon forgotten, but time spent with someone you love lasts a lifetime and beyond, and if that person leaves us too soon, we have our many memories stored up to take out and cherish and find comfort in.
This is what I am teaching my children, to value people and not things, to cherish those few moments that you spend with someone, and take the time to go visit family and friends.
Happy Fathers Day to all you dear ole Dads. I hope you have a very good one surrounded by the ones you love.
None of my fathers (count 'em, four--one biological, three step) was particularly nice, but can I honor my Grampa here?
I spell his name "Grampa" because that's how my sister and I, as little girls, pronounced it, and I shall forever remember him as Grampa, and Gramma as Gramma.
Grampa was a devout Catholic but for some weird reason had a little wooden statue of Buddha on his hearth. My sister and I often commented that Grampa looked like Buddha with hair. He was always smiling (when around us, anyway), had a big tummy that was wonderful to lie on top of, and, an old man in terrible health, nonetheless got right down there and played with us, whenever we wished.
When Gramma, who was also wonderful, would admonish us not to dip into the caramels before dinner, it was Grampa who snuck us one or two. "Don't tell your grandmother!"
Grampa taught me what borscht was (ick), and how to make pierogies, pronounced "pee-rah-hay". He joked that the dough was done when you could throw it at the ceiling and it would stick. To which Gramma would always scream, from wherever she was in the house, with that supernatural hearing she had, "Don't you DARE throw dough at my clean ceilings!" But I knew she was secretly laughing, just like we were. He would then further try to gross Gramma out by telling us kids, loudly, that making pierogies was the best way to get one's fingernails clean.
Grampa loved the Mets, and even in the 1970s was still calling the Dodgers "the Brooklyn Dodgers". They would always remain so to him.
He came from the Ukraine. He painted houses for a living. With hard work, he managed to buy himself a house and later help his children to buy houses, and to leave funds for his grandchildren for their education.
He had gray-blue eyes. Sometimes when I look into my middle son's gray eyes, I see my grandfather.
My grandfather died when I was almost 8 years old, of his fourth heart attack. Someone driving behind him saw him quietly pull over to the side of the road, knowing he was dying, but not wanting to cause an accident that would hurt perfectly healthy people.
I love you, Grampa. Happy Father's Day.
Jerz,
This is a beautiful story. My husband's grandparents were also from the Ukraine. He called them Baba and Gitty. I had never had perogies until I married him.
I feel like I had the best daddy in the world. He was a wonderful, kind, gentle man who loved me with all his heart. He was a Christian man who lived what he professed. Of course being the only girl I had him wrapped around my little finger. I feel so blessed to have felt that kind of love from a father and the wonder Christian example was is priceless. And he was also a wonderful husband who dearly loved my mother. He died on my birthday in 1989, it took me years to get over that part, but now I have and I just want to say "Thank you dear Heavenly Father for giving me a father that pointed me to you".
This is in honor of my dad! Fortunately, my dad is still alive...he has health problems, but at least he is still here!
My dad was/is the best father any girl could ever ask for! And that has trickled on down to being the best Grandfather (Papa) anyone could ever have! My dad is my world and I love him more than words can say.
The song Daddy's Hands by Holly Dunn sum my dad up the best with the exception that my dad was never a Chrstian. I never quite understood it, because my dad was/is more gentle and loveable than most Christians I know...but my dad is now a Christian, but he still refuses to go to church or read the Bible . But I love him anyway and I know in my heart of heart God loves him too!
I have a special relationship with my dad. We were at odds for years and I thought he was the biggest jerk in the world. Then I had kids and things began to become a lot clearer for me. I realized the purpose behind many of the things he did, and although there was a lot that we both know he did wrong, we have moved past that and have a great friendship now.
Five years ago my dad had been sitting up at night not sleeping. No one knew this until I happened to get up in the middle of the night and find my dad sitting up and out of breath. I asked him what he was doing and he said that he was having a hard time breathing when he laid down and that it had been going on for several days. I woke up mom because I knew something just wasnt right. We ended up taking him to the ER where they quickly realized he was in massive cardiac arrest.
To make a long story short, his heart had been stopping on and off for several days and he was having a horrible heart attack in the ER. The heart doctors said that they were shocked that he was actually alive let alone sitting there talking to people and only having "moderate" discomfort. The doctor told me, "when we see people in his condition, they have always been dead." It was a miracle that he was sitting there talking to us.
He was taken in for immediate open heart surgery and ended up having a FIVE WAY bypass. Most hard cases are a four way, but there is a fifth blood vessel and every once in a while someone manages to clog that one too. After fifteen days in intensive care and being pronounced dead during the operation, my dad was released just in time to come home for Christmas.
God used that opportunity to bring my dad and I closer than we had ever been. You never know how long you have with the people you love or if you will get a second chance. Today, my dad is healthy and doing fine. We are great friends and this father's day I just want to say, Dad I love you! Keep on kickin cus we have golf courses to conquor and fish to catch.
I miss my dad. He passed away a few years ago. I have fond memories of my dad as I stood on his shoes with my feet and we danced around the living room. He was very stict with me, but I was very close to my dad. He would take me shopping on special occasions, and always bought me black patent leather Mary Jane shoes, which I loved.
He came to know the Lord a few years before he passed away, for which I am so grateful. When he was in a coma, I went to visit him, as I took his hand and spoke to him, he opened his beautiful blue eyes and said "Hi ya Lil"
and then he went back into the coma. I really believe that was a blessing from the Lord. He died shortly after that.
So daddy, on this Father's day I just want to say "I Love You" and thank you for always providing for your family, even when you were down to your last dollar. You gave us beautiful Christmas memories, always having your four children find their special gifts under the tree. As I got older, I remember how you would go out in a snow storm and take the train just to buy our christmas toys. I loved going with you to pick out our christmas tree and how we all decorated it. Boy, if we didn't hang the tinsel just right you had a fit!! But dad, you just wanted everything just right and that's ok.
Everyone respected you dad, and mom misses you.
I'm comforted by the thought that you are in heaven with your two sons, and I will see again one day. Dad, your little girl is getting older, so it may be sooner than we think. Your grandchildren and greatgrandchildren talk about you lovingly. We haven't forgotten you and I will always hold you close in my heart. Dad I miss you, and my brothers. I always tell Jesus to tell you things I want to say. Well, Dad, you made it. Wait for me. I'm still fighting the fight of faith down here. I'm looking after mom and she's doing good for 89 years old. Your bride is still beautiful, Dad. Have a happy Father's Day in heaven. What better place to be to celebrate. Give Jesus a kiss for me. Love from your daughter
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#1 Dad
. But I love him anyway and I know in my heart of heart God loves him too! 
