My Dad

I've been thinking about my Dad a lot lately. He was my hero growing up. I was the tomboy/athlete in a family of all girls. I kind of ended up being the son he never had. That was fine with me.

My Dad was/ is an incredible athlete. He was admired by all his friends with his skills in golf, tennis, waterskiing, snow skiing, basketball... you name it. This gave us a special bond and I absolutely adored him and loved making him proud of me.

I remember him telling me when I was pretty young how he loved Braunswager sandwiches. He said he couldn't believe more people didn't like them. So of course I had to give it a try. It was pretty bad. Not horrible or anything, just not my style. Anyway, I told him I liked it. He was very pleased. He would make us Branswager sandwiches and it was like this bonding thing cause no one else in the family (the honest ones) liked them and he would say things like "Well A. and I know what's really good"

I realize now this was probably the start of my pleaser personality I took on, but at the time it felt wonderful to be part of this club. The Dad and me club. The great thing is I now know he would/will love me no matter what. I didn't have to pretend to like Branswager.

Anyway, Dad is now 73. He was still going strong till a few months ago when he came down with a case of the shingles. He's still hurting pretty bad and has lost a lot of weight and seems to have shrunk. I'm praying he recovers fully but this has been really hard for him. He tries to get out and play some golf but it wipes him out for the next day or two.

I never thought of my Dad as old before but that's what he looks like to me now. It's pretty scary. I don't want him to be old.

I really love this man.