My father and I are rather close most of the time. Sometimes we need our space, from people in general, not just each other. It occured to me that I have mentioned mom a few times in entries, but haven't really said much about my father.
When I was a child, dad was a truck-driver. He had a rather erratic schedule, because he drove long-hauls and not day-trips. When he was home, often he was tired and would rest and we had to be really, reall quiet. Children are not usually quiet, but we played lots outside anyway, so he did get some rest.
As kids, one of our chores was to help dad weed the truck patch (a really really big garden, which seemed bigger cuz I was so little). I was not too good with discerning what was a weed and what was a young plant, so I was constantly lagging behind my brother and father as they worked their rows. Dad would come and patiently show me again, I would nod (I got it when he was right there), he would return to his section, and I would gaze at the vegetation as muddled as I had been before. You could probably see little bubbles containing question marks blooming and popping above my head.
Our treat for a job well done was a dip and split. Now, the dip was rule-laden too, like weeding the garden, but much more enjoyable. Usually.
There was a stone bridge that arched over a creek, with a swim hole just above it. There was a swinging rope, a couple of nice sized boulders, and a log or two that seemed to be there always. Sometimes, there would be lots of happy folks there with a few kids, and we would all have fun. Every once in a while, there would be a few folks bathing in the stream (hey! this was the early to mid-70s). It seemed that it was peaceful and cool.
The rules were in regard to the swing rope. If you used it, you had to drop off, not just swing on it. No playing around with the rope. Swing out, drop off, or don't mess with the rope in the first place.
I did not know how to swim. I'm sure that I would have learned if I swung out and dropped off the rope into the deeper water. But I steered clear of the rope. For the most part. There was one time I remember swinging out, fully intending to drop, but my stomach and heart stayed behind and I couldn't remember to let go, even with everyone shouting to do so. I slammed into the root laden bank. More stunned than hurt, I cried, trying to stifle the sobs, cuz I was such a baby, I thought. Dad came and fished me out and I clung to him like I had the rope. He checked me over, which is a difficult thing to do with a small child hanging on to you and sobbing.
So after that, I went back to the safe dipping and wading. Leaving the swinging and swimming til I was older. Dipping was fun, less dangerous and I still cooled down.
The split was even more special. We would pile into the VW bug, bright orange, of course. The local Dairy Queen was quite a drive, it seemed then. We would order a banana split that seemed so huge and we got to keep the wooden boat it came in. A few years later, the boats became plastic and the splits were lots smaller. But, that one split was more than enough for 2 adults in their 20s and 2 small children (I was about 4 and my brother was 6).
When I was little, I'd go a pickin' pickory nuts. Most folks knew these as Hickory nuts...but you can't very well hick hickory nuts, now can ya? Dad took my brother and I fishing, hunting, and berrying all through the years. Dad and we kids would pick apples, pears, peaches, strawberries, etc. and mom would make jellies and jams. We would go fishing, dad would clean the catch, and mom would cook the mess up.
Dad taught me about maintaining my car. Together we have worked on more engines, transmissions, and exhaust systems than I would care to count. We even rebuilt a vehicle once. Bonding, man, bonding.
Dad is a very thorough person. He considers and analyzes everything, looking from all perspectives. His advice is sound, based on lots of pondering. He is good with explanations and with creating new ways to do things.
He is supportive in my endeavors, to try new things. But he also understands when I need the comfort of having the samo samo routine, no newness. He loves me, even when I don't seem to listen to him, or make big mistakes. That's cool, cuz he's my dad, man and it's great to love the guy, ya know?
