Memories of My Father

I had a customer at work who recently lost her father.  He was quite elderly, so she was fortunate to have spent many years with him.  However, she expressed to me, no matter how old you are, your daddy is still your daddy, and losing a parent is never easy. 

Growing up, I was a daddy's girl.  My mother taught school and my dad worked the midnight shift, so he kept me during the day, from the time I was born until I started school.  I have always thought this created the bond my father and I have with each other. When I was a little girl,he was always my safe place.  Anytime anything was wrong, I could snuggle up to his soft flannel shirt, and the soothing smell of his Aramis cologne would make everything better.  Ths smell of fresh cut grass still takes me back to summer afternoons spent playing outside as my dad worked in the yard.  When he was finished, we would climb in his loud, bumpy jeep and go up to the corner store for my favorite treat-a salty bag of peanuts poured into an ice cold Dr. Pepper in a glass bottle (yes, this is a Southern thing LOL).  Winter days were spent in his workshop, where he did woodwork.  I can still remember the dusty smell of sawdust on the concrete floor and the shrill shriek of the various saws he used.   

 When I was fifteen years old, my father turned my world upside down.  He left my mother for another woman.  To say I was devastated would be an understatement.  The years following this were quite traumatic and dramatic for me.  I was a hurt, hormonal teenager.  That, coupled with the red-headed Irish/Scottish temper I had inherited from him, made for many difficult years between father and daughter. However, he saw me through wrecked cars, boyfriend breakups, fights at home with my mother, skipping school, underage drinking, and a long list of other trials and tribulations.  He put me through college, paid for a wedding that he didn't agree with because he said "I would have to learn for myself", (which, consequently, I did - the marriage was over pretty quickly), and has been by my side through everything. 

It has taken me many years to overcome the hurt and devastation the divorce caused me. It has also taken me many years to realize the unconditional love and friendship of my father - and that even though he left my mother, he has never left me.  To this day, there is nothing in this world that the smell of Aramis cologne and peanuts in a Dr. Pepper, shared with my dad, couldn't fix.