My Dad

To every young girl, her father is a hero.  For me, that was certainly the case.  When I was little, my Dad nicknamed me Mouse.  Throughout my life, he got me "mouse" related gifts at all of the holidays and sometimes, just because.  I had stuffed mice, tall mice, crystal mice, pottery mice, swarovski mice, mouse plates, mouse ornaments, one time, a vacuum cleaner cover that was a giant mouse, door stop mice, giant mice, you name it.  And those two GIANT mice I keep out front by my door.  The ones that wore Laker's jerseys during playoffs, and Bunny ears at Easter, and Santa caps at Christmas, also from my Dad.  My Dad found that first giant mouse in a gift shop while on a trip one summer with two of their grandsons.  The mouse was out in front of the shop, and my Dad asked how much it was.  The lady told him it wasn't really for sale, she used it as a prop.  My Dad bought that mouse from her, and it rode home in between my nephews Chad and Timmy.  They still talk about that long ride home with  a giant mouse between them.

It became a fun thing to collect, and he and my Mom never went anywhere without seeking out some special mouse to bring home to me.  Our local newspaper used to run a weekly story on special collections and I wrote in about mine.  They came out and did a story.  This photo showed only a teeny tiny few of the mice I had on display for them to see.  It was taken about 15 years ago.

We lost my Dad 7 years ago.  It was a devastating blow to our family.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him.  My Mom always says, "He was the architect of our lives" and I think of that so often.  He was a very special man indeed.  Those of you reading this that knew him, already know.  I have heard it said that the most important thing you can leave behind to those you love, is the mark you leave on their life.  This is so very true of my Dad.  My Dad loved his family more than anything else in the whole world.  He loved spending time us.  That did not change after all of us grew up and began our own families either.  We did things as a large family group at every opportunity.  Most of which revolved around boating of some type.
This next picture is a treasure of mine.  It was taken only a few short months before learning he was ill.  He had just bought a new boat and we were all out on it in Newport Beach.  My daughter Erika took this picture and had this frame made for me at Christmas.  I still can't look at it without crying.  It is so very special to me.  And it is the last photo of the two of us together.

I wanted to get up and bring him yellow and red roses from the two rose bushes I took out of their yard when Mom sold the house and moved. My Dad had planted those rose bushes shortly before he got sick.  That is what I always bring to him when I go to chat with him.  I think he will understand me not going today, having shingles and all.  In fact he would say, "Kristin, you get yourself back home right now and do what the doctor told you to do, you hear me?"  I hear you Dad.  I love you Dad.  I miss you Dad.  Happy Father's Day Dad.
PS  My salute to another very special "Dad" in my life will be later this evening!