‘Girl dad’ memories.

Grief is a strange thing. It does funny things with your heart, body and mind. It handles a person in different ways at different times. One day I weep or I’m depressed, even afraid. A few days later I’m smiling, recalling pleasant memories of him.

As memories go, we are at the time of year when parents are honored — Mother’s Day and Father’s Day — (and another round of “firsts” without Mike), and I find myself reflecting on the beautiful ways Mike was such a good father to our daughters. How he was such a good “girl dad.”

n the eulogy our son-in-law John gave at Mike’s visitation, he talked about how Mike had taught him to be a girl dad, an important thing as he also found himself the father of two daughters. But what exactly did that mean. I wasn’t sure, so I went to the two people who I thought could give me some insight: our daughters.

I knew it wouldn’t be an easy task for them, because writing these monthly posts has been a struggle for me. Like I said, grief does funny things. But not unexpectedly, they came through with heartfelt, poignant memories of their special ‘girl dad.’

Mollie fondly remembered the many times they played “around the world” basketball on the driveway. How he rolled his eyes as she hung on the phone (no cell phones then) talking to a boyfriend (“but you’re not saying anything,” he remarked).

Both girls, now decades later, remember a white and orange pickup truck. Mollie, at about age 10, remembered riding home from the farm in that pickup, taking a nap with her head on his lap. “He always wore jeans.” About the same age, Jill remembered when he asked her to drive that pickup through the farm pumpkin patch. “Dad gets out of the pickup and says to me ‘pull up here,’ pointing ahead about 20 feet and just starts walking ahead. I was just given the hugest responsibility to drive that big machine all of those 20 feet on my very own. But he asked me to do it and then just walked ahead leaving me to do it, so he must have known I could. He didn’t doubt my ability so why should I?”

Oh, the little things that stick in one’s head and heart.

Mollie recalled: “I think one of the things I can still see so vividly and miss so much is seeing him waving in the driveway. He stood in the driveway and waved goodbye when I drove back to college after a weekend at home. He was also always the last to walk in the house when John, me and the girls came down for dinner or a visit. He was just ‘there,’ never demanding anything or pushing an agenda. Just there, and I miss that.”

Jill said, “Dad always trusted, believed in and encouraged that adventurous spirit in us and in his grandkids. I think he believed it would ultimately propel us to reach our fullest potential in life. He ‘turned the keys’ over to us in so many ways.”

He continued that modus operandi with his two granddaughters whom he adored. They spent many happy moments, whether it was driving the pickup, making smores on the deck, or, as Norah said, “watching medium bad guy movies.”

Some of the most beautiful comments were written in Father’s Day cards the girls had given to Mike through the years. I was glad to uncover them recently.

From Mollie: “John asked me one time who has been the most influential person in my life and I said, ‘my dad,’ because he behaves and holds himself in a way that he believes to be honest and right. You teach by example, Dad, and for that I thank you.”

A quote hand written in one of the cards: “He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived and let me watch him do it.” Clarence Kelland

Another unnamed quote in one of their cards: A father’s tears and fears are unseen, his love is unexpressed, but his care and protection remains as a pillar of strength throughout our lives.”

From Jill:

“I never doubted and always felt your care and protection.”

“Thank you for being such a wonderful dad throughout the years.

It is the little things in life that count the most. Mike could be a man of few words, but what he said was usually important and he passed on some pretty special ways of living to his family: reliability, stability, honesty, the importance of family; and always providing his dry wit and great sense of humor.

You’ve left us Mike, but you’ve left us with so much,

Thank you, Mike. Thanks, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day