Memories of Dad

Father's Day is Sunday. For me, it is a bittersweet celebration. I will celebrate the day with my husband (a great dad) and my children and take my mom out to dinner with us. My dad passed away 12 years ago at the age of 83 so I enjoyed many Father's Day celebrations with him. Although my dad is not physically with me any more, I carry him in my heart each and every day. I was blessed with a wonderful and loving father and I have many fond memories of him.

Dad loved to drive. He drove for a living as a subway motorman and wouldn't hesitate planning a long road trip. As a child, we drove to Miami Beach every Easter for a family vacation. He also liked to fix cars and took great pride in the care of each and every car that he owned.

When he passed away, he owned a Buick that was only five-years-old. That car sat in dad's garage for five years until my daughter turned 16 and received her learner's permit. The Buick was her first car as she went back and forth in her senior year of high school. She  used that car until my son learned to drive and it became his first car. My son is still driving it today and although the car is now 18 years old, it still runs quite well.

Dad was such a skillful driver. One winter, my husband was hospitalized for pneumonia and dad's car was at the mechanic. My dad borrowed my car but I needed my father to drop me off at the hospital and then pick me up after I made a several-hour-long visit. My children were three and seven at the time and I had left them at my parents' home. While I was visiting with my husband, a snowstorm had begun. There were several inches on the ground when dad came to pick me up. The sharp incline of the road had many cars slipping and sliding until their driver's were left stranded on the road. But dad slowly drove up the incline, passing all the other cars. We were the only car moving and I knew that my father would get me home to my children safe and sound.

Dad also loved to cook and, like all the men in my extended Italian family, was very good at it. When I was first married, I often asked Dad how to prepare family favorites. I always enjoyed eating the dishes but now I wanted to prepare them myself. One particular time, I was having a small dinner party for a few friends and I wanted to make sausage and peppers and eggplant parmigiana. Dad began telling me what I needed to do and then he volunteered to make a tray of each and bring it over. He said that I had other dishes to prepare and he wanted to help me.

 Dad was always there for me as well as my older brother. Whether we needed help painting or watching the grandchildren or some wise advice, he was ready to help his family. My father is no longer here with me, but I see him in many places. He sits next to my children when they are driving, I taste his recipe as I sit down to eat spaghetti and meatballs and I see his face reflected in my childrens' faces.

Happy Father's Day!