Happy birthday, Daddy

Today is my father's birthday, and I can't help but think about all the things he's taught me over the years and all that he continues to do for me now.

I remember the Camp Fire Father-Daughter box suppers when I was a kid. Mom would pack our dinner in a box we had decorated with red crepe paper and white heart-shaped paper doilies and Valentines. Usually, dinner was fried chicken (something that didn't have to be eaten hot). I bet if I went to my parents' basement, that box (it was from the meat grinder) is on the shelf still decorated. One of our traditions at the box supper was to sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," and to this day I get misty-eyed when I hum the tune or replay the lyrics in my head.

Daddy taught me how to drive ... God love him. He had the patience of a saint. Thankfully, my car (a 1974 Mercury Montego - the V8-powered "Brown Bomb") was an automatic. I couldn't get the hang of shifting a standard to save my life ... until ... that summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school when I was away at a gifted camp at MU. I called home and found out he had sold my car because he could get a good price for it. I was left to drive his truck (a standard) or nothing at all. I learned how to shift in about five minutes. Mind over matter, I guess.

Besides carrying mail for 35 years, my dad was a carpenter on the side, repairing, refinishing and building furniture. I especially love my solid cherry desk (except when I have to move it)! And, most of the furniture in my house has been touched by him in some way - he made it, refinished it, repaired it or helped move it.

He and my grandfather built the house that I consider to be the one where I "grew up," even though it was the mid-70s when we moved there. I remember tying my wagon to the back of my tricycle and peddling through the studs picking up the scrap lumber. I'm sure I was the epitome of helpfulness.

Over the years, he's taught me a thing or two about power tools. And now, I'm handy enough with a power drill to accomplish most minor household and craft projects. I can hang a picture on the wall, change the furnace filter and mow and trim the grass. But, I still call on Daddy to lend a hand with the big things - most recently, Wonder Child's Pinewood Derby car.

And, I should explain - Yes, I'm 40-something and still call my father "Daddy." He will always be Daddy, and it isn't because I'm the youngest and only girl. "Dad" was my grandfather (That's what my brothers and I called our grandfather. My oldest brother picked up "Dad" for our grandfather from hearing my parents call him that, and it stuck through all three of us kids.)

Daddy cooked breakfast for us most mornings because Mom worked the night shift part-time, and he was up early for work. He still makes great biscuits from scratch.

He enjoys a cup of coffee every evening about 8 o'clock. He taught me early on the best way to eat an apple was to slice it in half, core it and fill the void from the core with peanut butter. I was an adult before I broke that eating pattern ... 'cause, basically, everything's better with peanut butter! And, his favorite pie is pineapple, and that's how we celebrate his birthday. No cake for him - it's pie!

Daddy taught me at a very young age the value of money, how to live modestly and the power of saving. He frequently asked me in my 20s if I had checked the oil in my car (to which I usually rolled my eyes). And, he taught me most everything I know about gardening. And, yes, I picked more than my fair share of rocks out of our garden at home as a kid. I used to swear he put back all the rocks at the end of the summer so I could pick them out the next spring.

He is as honest as the day is long. When we were kids, he would turn around and drive back to a store if the clerk gave the wrong amount of change. Not all that long ago, he went back to the counter of a restaurant to pay the difference because the server hadn't charged us enough for our meal. Most people would think it was their lucky day and go on. But, not my father ... and not me - I know better because that's how I was taught.

There are so many things I admire about my father - too numerous to mention here. But, just as I wrote in his birthday card, I'm so blessed to have him with me still today. He and my mom do so much for Wonder Child and me.

So, here's a deeply heartfelt, "Love you, Daddy. Happy 75th Birthday!"