Four years ago, my Daddy spent a remarkable final Father’s Day with us and died a mere three days later. In honour of Dad, I wanted to share some of what made him so very special. And weird. And nerdy. And all kinds of wonderful.
Daddy actually said the words tee hee when he giggled. Daddy was a crunchy hippie before it was cool. He made wine in our bathtub, yoghurt on the counter and had a sourdough starter brewing in the fridge. He was our room mother, science fair judge and consummate piano accompanist. He taught himself to play the banjo, built his own dulcimer and got to fill in as a last minute timpanist for the choral society. He sang in the opera, acted in community theatre and starred in more than a few local commercials; most notably one where he was in a bathtub decked out in full Red Baron flying regalia. He twirled his hair when he read. He read a lot. There was a lot of hair twirling going on. He loved science fiction and was one of the first known trekkies – he was called Mr. Spock in graduate school. He could tat lace, clog like a fiend and wiggle his ears. He rocked the pocket protector and safety glasses look. He knew everything about everything. Or so we thought. He was scary smart. He was also inventive and mischievous. After about a hundred “but WHY Daddy” questions, he invented the SWAG, or the scientific wild ass guess. He was very proud of his SWAGS. He always told us we were beautiful, and treated us like treasures. He was the consummate gentleman. He could recite Shakespeare, Robbie Burns and Mark Twain. He also knew some pretty bawdy limericks. He hand enormous hands and twinkling eyes. He was a constant source of comfort and wisdom and humour and kindness and unwavering faith and love. And we miss him.