Have you ever lost touch with someone who means the world to you? Your heart warms with fondness of days gone by and, at the same time, aches a bit with the sense that you will never have it quite like that again. My dad went to heaven years ago, falling short of his 90th birthday by just one week, but the memories of our life together are as real as the newspaper, which he meticulously read every day.
Yes, Saturdays were my favorite. My mind vividly beholds him reading his precious black and white periodical while sitting in his comfy, oversized golden-brown easy chair. The cushion had actually memorized his frame. Nobody else could sit in it! If any of us dare try, we would just sink in like some kind of strange quicksand that you had to struggle to get out of. But that chair knew him. It was a perfect fit, like a well-worn prize baseball glove!
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The weekend newspaper kicked off our household routine like a rooster’s “cock-a-doodle-doo doo” announces the glow of the sun’s appearance into view. Dad had the paperboy trained to deliver the tabloid each Saturday at the crack of dawn. First, we could hear the soft click clacking of the bicycle wheels followed by a dull thud, as he hurled it onto the front porch. Then, in a deep slumber marked by squeaks of a “doggy dream,” our huge brown Boxer dog, Duke, would perk up just in time to utter his dutiful “yelp” in defense of our homestead. “That’s OK boy!” Dad would whisper, pretending not to want to wake us up — but he really did, and we knew it! Dad loved our company, and it showed.
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Resisting the urge to start our day at 6am, he would pour a piping hot cup of coffee, grab his precious paper and settle down for a good read. Starting with the “funnies” you could hear the rustle of the turning pages and an occasional chuckle he read “a good one!” Then, as the clock ticked past 7 and 8, his very special wakeup call was about to commence.
With the clanging of pots and pans, the air was soon wafting with the most wonderful scent of crisp pork bacon sizzling and crackling on the stove. The aroma beckoned us, still nestled under our covers, now not quite as asleep as before. Piles of savory cooked bacon and his famous creamy, buttermilk pancakes awaited us. Sometimes he would even whip up sweet homemade brown sugar syrup, a favorite recipe that tasted like heaven itself. It was all such an event.
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The weekend ritual was so much more than scrumptious, tummy-warming food. It was pure love. Never did we feel so safe as hearing him sweetly call to his slumbering clan “Kids, I made pancakes!” We couldn’t help it. We had to jump out of bed, cheering, “Yay!” for him. And, of course, he made way too much. His generous display of pancake-love may have been born out of a childhood of lack, having lived through the dark and sparse Depression Years. Making up for some of what his own dad may not have been able to do became our blessing. In fact, he was our blessing, without a doubt.
There are a zillion other things about my father that I love but you can see just how special they all must be with this one, oft-repeated Saturday celebration. It is a memory we all hold dear, with a smile and, sometimes, a little tear. I can hardly wait to see him again, in heaven, but till then all I can say is “miss you, dad!” I surely do. And, now, I’m hungry.
Enjoy!
*About our dog, Duke. Being a short-haired Boxer, his shedding was more seasonal. At those times, we’d wind up with a handful of loose fur in hand after running our hand down his back.
Kind of extraordinary. Who knew all that fur was in there?
When I became an adult, most of our dogs have been yellow labs.
Labrador Retrievers have a shedding capacity all their own! They have two layers of fur, which insulates them from cold waters — they love to swim — and I firmly believe that doubles the DOG FUR PRODUCING VOLUME exponentially. At least, it sure feels like it does. The overflow of fur started me on a quest for the best pet hair vacuum cleaner I could find (and afford.)
I tell about that journey, including one vacuum cleaner fail where it caught on fire, in my Best Vacuum for Pet Hair Ever story.
Lexi and Sadie, two of our Labrador Retrievers!
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Spoiler Alert: the BEST PET HAIR VACUUM is a SHARK!
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This is the color of dad’s easy chair! It was just about that cushy, too!
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