Hey there Folks,
It's Dad's Day. Now I know everyone wants to celebrate it in their own way. Some of us got lucky and had great Dads, and some of us had bums for fathers and would prefer to forget them.
I got lucky I had a really great Dad, granted he wasn't always in my life, well because of his work.
Dad was a baker, he baked bread---sometimes referred to as the staff of life---but it meant that he worked nights and slept days, so most of the times I really didn't get to see him.
He'd come home about 6 in the morning, leave his flour covered work clothes in a special basket in the back laundry room, wash himself in the laundry sink to get the flour off, and then go to bed. Mom would wake up and then get things ready for us kids, and we'd get ready for school, but we had to be quiet because Dad was asleep.
We'd get out of school about 3 p.m. and when we got home Dad would be up having a light breakfast. And that was a good time, we'd tell him about school and such and do our homework at the kitchen table and Dad would read the newspaper at the table as well having coffee.
One of the biggest investments my folks made in our education was a comprehensive dictionary---the Webster Collegate----and if we didn't understand something Dad would read it's meaning to us out of the dictionary, while Mom was putting dinner together, and finishing up laundry.
Now this was something of a miracle for my Dad because he never went beyond the 8th grade but he was a wizz at math, he could figure out those "thought problems" like they were nuthin' and then explain to us how to figure them out. He was most always right.
Mom handled the spelling and writing assigments. She was a wizz at that. She went to High School.
Then come 5:30 p.m. or 6 p.m. Dad would go off the work, now he didn't have to go far, we were lucky because the bakery was only two short blocks from our house and if Mom wanted me to run over there with something or something came up I could dash over real quick and give him the message.
So most evenings Dad wasn't home, it be me, Mom and baby brother, (who grew up to be Bubba size). But Mom in her own way made sure that even though Dad wasn't home, he still was a presense in our lives. It was in the little things, like large pictures of him in his Army uniform or their Wedding picture, or a picture of all of us from some speical thing we did.
Or Mom whould have my brother and me take up Dad's freshly laundered clothes and she'd follow with bath towels or something, and we'd help her put the clothing away.
On Wednesdays, Mom would have all of Dad's work clothes in a special cloth bag, and I'd put it on my Red wagon and take it to the cleaners, and I'd tell Mrs. Tillitson "Mom's says to be careful it's flour and rice flour" every Wednesday I'd say that, but when you're only 8 years old you did as you were told.
And Mrs. Tillitson would always say " I'll be careful, now here's the clean clothes" and she'd put the clean ones that were all wrapped up in paper in my wagon, and I'd give her the payment that was from last week and she'd give me the new bill for the current week.
I did that right up to when I was in college, But I could make change and pay for the bill right then and there, and I could pick up the clean clothes as well as deposit the used ones by then, but I still used that red wagon to walk them to the cleaners.
Mom always say "Let me talk to your Dad about that"....or "Dad and I are planning ..." or "Don't you get into trouble or I'd have to tell your Dad and he'd be upset" or "Oh Dear, I'm going to have to ask your Dad if there's a way to fix this".
See no matter what Dad was always a presense in our lives.
Dad always went to Church with us on Sundays, 'cause Saturdays was his day off of work.
He'd have Tuesdays off because no bread would be baked for Wednesdays, back then, why I don't know but it was tradition---you had to make sure you had enough bread to see you though Wednesdays and Sundays.
So Tuesdays would be the big errand days for him and Mom, they'd try to be home by the time we were out of school, and if we got home before them, we'd have a hidden key to get through the back door. But they'd be home real quick.
Now during the Summer, that was a fun time, Dad and I on Tuesdays would go to the Dumps--to dump green cuttings or something, and we'd find something he could fix and use.
Saturdays, if the money was there we'd go someplace, like to a park or fishing or something. Couldn't do it all the time, because back then like now, we had to budget.
Or Dad would be fixing something, or working in the garden, or painting some part of the house, or doing something on the car that 1936 Chevy. Or we'd go to Grandma's and help her out.
Dad's Day we'd have a cake for Dad, and fix him a special lunch or go out to Breakfast instead of coming home for breakfast. But every Dad's Day my Dad had to go to work in the evenings at 6 p.m. to get the bread ready for baking and bake it for delivery, he never had that Day off.
But Mom would fix him a speical lunch of Roast Beef Sandwhiches, and some other speical goodies for his lunch, and since the bakery was just two short blocks away I'd walk it over to him and walk into the work area, and wait until he had a free moment, then I'd hand him the lunch and say "Happy Father's Day Pop!" and he'd smile.
He never had that day off, so he could rest, because he took his job seriously because Bread is the staff of life and Great Dads and Moms are the life support of families.
Now I'm gonna treat my Hunka, Hunka Burnin' Love to his Dad's Day, His son is coming by and the two of them are going to enjoy a beer and tell tales to each other sitting out in the back yard and laughing themselves silly.
And I'm going to remember all the Dad's Days I had with my Dad and pass those tales on to Junior. I guess some of us are lucky.
Mean Kitty relaxing signing off.
