With Father’s Day quickly approaching, I’ve noticed that many bloggers are showcasing their masculine creations, honoring the men in their lives. I decided it was time for me to head to my Hideout and create a special card for my own dad… the true Mr. Fix It!
Before I go further, let me say, you have my complete permission to read no further! This blog post will be long, because there are so many things I’d like to say about my dad. If you choose to read further, thank you!
A Tribute to My Dad
My parents had two daughters; no sons. I am the younger of the two, Daddy’s little girl. I always adored my dad, in the wide-eyed wonder that only a girl can have for her daddy. He was (and is) my dad, yes, but also my rock and my hero!
I remember when I was in second grade. I truly believed my dad could fix anything. One day at school, in my childlike innocence I voiced that thought on the playground during recess. One of my peers mocked me and suggested I was wrong. With my adoration of my dad and the need to defend his honor among my peers, I declared that I was right. Later, when we returned to the classroom, my peer took a Kleenex from the box, tore it in half and handed it to me with the hurtful words, “Here! Have your dad fix that.” I was crushed… for just a moment. Then I remembered all the things my dad could fix and decided this mere peer was “dumber than dumb.” My dad remained Mr. Fix It in my mind!
A few years later (and several moves later – did I mention we moved a lot when I was growing up? We moved every 3-6 months, so by this time I’d long left behind that dumber than dumb peer. Yay!)… but I digress! A few years later, my dad finally decided I could learn to drive a motorcycle. Yes, we had motorcycles. The first one my dad bought was a Triumph that he brought home in a trash can. The previous owner had torn it apart piece by piece and was going to fix it but he couldn’t remember how to put it back together. (I don’t know… maybe the previous owner was Dumber than Dumb’s dad???) My dad, Mr. Fix It, was able to put it back together!!! Anyway, my dad spent hours teaching me to drive our little white Honda 150 motorcycle. I was 10 or 11 years old at the time. I loved that bike. A short time later we moved and my new driving area was rolling hills in the field behind our house. I’d take the little white Honda out on the hills, but I was afraid to shift down and it would die part way up the hill. I’d honk my horn, and my dad would come to my rescue! Mr. Fix It would jump on another motorcycle and come flying over the hills to my side. My hero!
When I was in High School, my dad began the tradition of giving my sister and me a Christmas present. Until that time (except once when I was young and wanted an expensive doll that my mom wouldn’t buy for me, so my dad did) my mom was the one who did all the Christmas shopping. The first year my dad gave us a gift all by himself, he gave us the softest thermal blankets. I loved that white blanket. It was warm, yet lightweight. I loved snuggling up in it. For many many years whenever I wasn’t feeling well, that was the blanket I’d grab. It always seemed to make me feel better. (Who am I kidding? I still have the blanket… it’s my security blanket.)
Less than two months after graduating from High School, I married my High School sweetheart, squelching my dad’s dreams for me to attain a college education. But he never voiced criticism or dissatisfaction. His love was (and is) unconditional. Three years later, my husband became ill. The prognosis was not good. He had leukemia and was dying. During the eleven months that the illness raged, my dad was a source of strength to me. He did so much to help! Perhaps the best thing he gave me was his presence. Sometimes I would see the hurt in his eyes, but mostly I saw his love. And I leaned on him and his strength. After my husband died, I sought solace in my parents’ home. I suppose I was hoping that my dad could fix my heartache, my pain. But in fairness to him, this was something he could not fix… not because my second-grade peer was right, but because only time and the merciful love of my heavenly Father could heal my broken heart.
As a 23-year-old widow, I went to college. (I’m sure that made my dad proud.) It wasn’t always easy. I depended on my parents a lot and appreciate them more than they know. During my college years, my dad fixed my car – regularly! He made sure I had a dependable vehicle to travel to/from school. Without my personal Mr. Fix It, I might never have graduated. About a year after graduating from college, I married again. I think I may have heard my dad breathe a sigh of relief… after all, now someone else would be maintaining my vehicle. (Honey, my dad and I both love you!)
My dad is in his later seventies now. I am so thankful that he has good health. And he’s still fixing things. A few years ago he restored the 1953 (I think) GMC pickup truck that was my great-grandfather’s vehicle. It sure is pretty. My parents take it to Antique Car Shows and it has earned many trophies! My dad is currently restoring an old Corvair Convertible (1961, maybe???) that was my sister’s first car. Some days he gets frustrated with the process, but we are all so proud of his progress. He’s doing well and before long that Corvair will be earning some trophies of its own.
But in my mind, the real trophy goes to Mr. Fix It. Remember, he’s my dad, my rock, my Hero!
Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! I love you!!!
Challenges I've entered this card in are:
The Town Scrapper (Father's Day)
Kah-Wink-e-Dink (Father's Day)
Pearl Tree Designs (Father's Day)
Simple Doodles (Father's Day)
The Pixie Cottage (Father's Day)
Tellen's Place (Father's Day)
Daisy Doodles (Father's Day)
Magical Crafts (Father's Day)
C.R.A.F.T. Challenge (Father's Day)
Paper Cutz Challenge (Father's Day)
Tanda Stamps Challenge (Father's Day)
Drunken Stampers (Father's Day)
Image: Karen's Doodles Mr Fix It Car
Ink: Copic markers
Cardstock: Stampin' UP! Riding Hood Red and So Saffron
Designer Paper: from my scrap file
Embellishments: red brads and Karen Foser Mini Screw brads
