Happy Fathers Day!
This entry was posted on June 17, 2007 6:38 PM and is filed under Family.
I always have a great Father's Day. Today was no different.
I remember as a child, watching my Dad "beam"on Father's Day as he opened ties, socks, and pull-over shirts. I always thought "homemade" gifts were always better. My Dad didn't care, ... it was the simple fact that the family was together that made him happy.
When I was about 7-years old I remember cutting a 2-by-4 to about 18-inches long, ... painting it green (the same color as our freshly painted shutters, ... in fact, I used the same leftover paint), pounding about eight, 4-inch nails into the wood about 1/2-inch deep spaced about 1 1/2-inches apart and present my father with (ready for this) a tie rack!!!!!!!!
I didn't realize that oil base paint from 1962 took a little longer than the 12 hours I allowed for drying. As I placed about 20 of my father's best ties over the
I remember feeling terrible calling my Dad after our Oak Park River Forest High School Basketball Team's bus would arrive back at school after midnight from an away-game on a freezing cold winter night.
"Dad? Could I get a ride home?" I'd ask.
"Yes, ... I'll be right there, ... stay inside the gym until I get there Joe," he'd say, as I could tell I was waking him up from a deep sleep.
"Dad, ... could you give a few of the guys a ride home too?"
"Sure, ... I'll be there in five minutes," he'd always say.
Never a complaint; never thinking about himself. Always supportive and always there for my ten brothers and sisters and me.
Now I'm a father, and whenever I want to blow a gasket with my daughters, I always say to myself, "what would my Dad do?" ... and most of the time I find myself reasoning with my daughters, dealing from the position of love. I am now there in the middle of the night to drive them home from work, or an away-game and I too share their day with them asking; "Did you have a good time?," like my Dad did with me. I promised myself not to lay a self-serving guilt trip on them. After all, ... they are my children.
I visited my Dad today. I brought my Mom and we laid flowers at his grave. I didn't feel sad. Sure, I miss him very much, but I said everything I ever wanted to say to him before he died. I told him I loved him and that he was my hero every time I would think about it. I never had a problem talking to my father throughout my life, even when the subject was very personal.
Today, my daughters and I played our 15th Annual Father's Day Miniature Golf Game, ... I lost for the first time. Laura came in first with 49 strokes, ... Danielle and Jenny tied at 51. I scored a 52 and Kim came in last with 54. My girls took me to lunch after the game and we had a great time.
The best role model for being a father was my father. My goal in life is NOT playing the greatest concert or selling millions of CD's. I will have succeeded in life if I my daughters think of me with half the respect I had for my Dad.
Happy Father's Day Dad, ... I hope you had a good day.
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June 19, 2007 12:20 AM
Dave Wentz wrote:
Joe, I always love reading about stories of your Dad. We all cherish our own Father's day memories. My favorite Father's day memory occurred 4 years ago. In June of 2003 we invited my parents, my 2 brothers and my sister's family out to a 5 bedroom cabin in Galena that we had rented for Father's day weekend. On Saturday my Mom, Dad and youngest brother along with my wife and three kids drove out to Dyersville, Iowa to see the sacred Field of Dreams baseball field. Yes, it still exists and is a beautiful place for anyone who loves baseball and cornfields!
I asked my then 70 year old Father to bring his glove. He had 2 knee replacement surgeries and a rotator cuff operation about 2 years before this so this was the first time in probably 10 years that he had even picked up a baseball.
As my Dad and I walked out to the sacred baseball diamond we noticed that a group of about 20 high school kids were in the middle of a game of baseball. One of them told me they were all on a high school baseball team that had driven 7 hours from Michigan just to play on this field. One of them astoutly noticed that my Dad and I both also had our own baseball gloves and without saying a word to us, asked the rest of his teammates to stop playing and let me and my Dad walk onto the field for awhile.
In the immortal words of Ray Kinsella, I looked at my Dad and said, "hey Dad, do you want to have a catch?" My Dad and I both teared up and cried like babies as we threw the ball to each other for the first time in 25 years while 20 high school kids cheered us on from the sidelines. My Dad could barely stand up without his cane but managed to throw a pretty solid overhand pitch just like he used to when I was a kid and he was my baseball coach.
The next day we gathered around the cabin while my Dad opened Father's day
presents. Mine was a surprise. It was a copy of an essay I had written in college about my Dad and what he meant to me. My Dad read the essay out loud and cried as he read it, perhaps not realizing until that moment how much of an impact he had had on my life. What a great memory.
Happy belated Fathers day to you Joe and to anyone else reading this.
Your bro,
Dave Wentz
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June 19, 2007 4:40 PM
Ryan Jazak wrote:
That is an awesome story Dave. Gave me goosebumps reading it. Reminds me of my deceased Grandpa who used to sit and watch my uncle pitch in the local area baseball leagues, while he was listening to the Brewers game with a walkman. Those were real baseball fans, your father and my Grandpa. Great story Dave, thanks for sharing.
Ryan Jazak
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June 20, 2007 7:22 PM
Cheryl Castanedo wrote:
I too agree that I love reading stories about Joe's mememories of his father. I now have another person to add to the list. Dave, I just had the cry (tears of joy) of my life! Your story was one I will never forget. Moments like that are one in a million that we will cherish forever. I am so happy for you that you had that moment and then some.
Take care!
Cheryl
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June 19, 2007 4:40 PM
Ryan Jazak wrote: