13 Thursday #8
AKA: 13 Things about My Father…
1. My father was a cross between Santa Claus and Jackie Gleason.
2. The last time I saw him, he was in the hospital after a car accident. I told my mom and sister to go for lunch and that I would meet up with them later because I wanted to be alone with my dad. He wasn’t coherent at the time. He held my hand for 20 minutes, fidgeting with it. At times, he would toss it aside as if it didn’t work correctly and then find it again and continue fidgeting. I’m convinced he thought my hand was a TV remote control.
3. Writing runs in my family. I have a poem my father wrote when he was in army boot camp at the age of 19, a poem his mother had published in a newspaper, and a published song about Ireland that his father wrote. I also have a long letter his mother from County Cork, Ireland, wrote to him when he was overseas during WWII where she used the word “YE” instead of “YOU.” Not long ago, I read it out loud to my dad, using an Irish accent. It brought tears to his eyes.
4. My dad wore an Irish claddagh ring. He was buried with it.
5. I once wrapped him an amethyst crystal and told him that amethyst was said to guard against drunkenness. He wore it on a cord around his neck until it fell apart.
6. My dad had the best definition of alcoholism that I’ve ever heard: You’re either thinking about drinking, thinking about not drinking, or you’re drinking.
7. He was born in “Southie,” the Irish section of Boston, and was raised in North Quincy. He had an “Irish Only” sign in his drive-way and a “Kiss Me I’m Irish” magnet on his fridge, but had never been to Ireland.
8. His hobby was copying video movies and making his own jacket covers for them. He had 4 stories of rooms full of videos, including the cellar and garage. I once made a home movie documentary of his collection. “Dad, you have so many videos. You should be in the Guinness Book of World Records,” I said while filming him. “I just want the pain, not the fame!” he answered in his tough-guy Boston accent.
9. Growing up as one of nine, it was hard to get one-on-one time with our parents. My mother was over-worked, and I only remember being read to out loud a couple of times, by my dad. It was the “Snow Queen” by Hans Christian Anderson.
10. This past summer when I was visiting him, he told me the story of when his older brother Bernard took him on a train to New York as a kid. “It was the best day of my life,” he said.
11. He collected all the reject photographs that people didn’t want. During the same summer visit, he pulled out a batch of them from a drawer next to his favorite kitchen chair, and we had a good laugh. Ironically, they seemed like a collection of best pictures, rather than the worst.
12. When I was a little girl, I told my dad I loved him, and he asked, “How much?” I answered, “60” because it was the biggest number I could think of at the time. From then on, I always said, “I love you 60, Dad.”
13. When “Eulogizing My Father” and “Somebody Upstairs Has Claimed Him” went off the front page of my blog, the sadness I feel about losing my father was magnified.
Post Note: To find out more about Thursday 13 and to see a list of participants visit Leanne’s Artist by Nature. She is the master of ceremonies.
December 15th, 2005 9:40 am
What a loving and touching list, Colleen. I wish I had known your Dad. He sounds like a most amazing human being.
Take care xo
December 15th, 2005 10:20 am
Your comments about your Father were moving and filled with warmth. I lost my Dad 18 years ago and I still grieve. He drank himself to death and died way too young. My sons never got to meet him. And I barely got the chance to become his adult friend.
December 15th, 2005 10:30 am
(((hugs)))) I knew because of the date and because of what I wanted to do in my blog, that my TT would be about my mom. I got through it OK writing it. But — I cried all the way through reading yours. I am sooo sorry. Losing a parent is never easy. I just thought we would have more time….
December 15th, 2005 12:06 pm
Awww – I bet he loved you 60, too, Colleen. I love how you write about your family with such respect and reverence. I wish I grew up in your household! (No offense to my sis, Tommi, who will be here soon I’m sure- but I think you would have been way funner to play with.)
xoxoxo
December 15th, 2005 1:11 pm
What a wonderful post. I’ll bet he was smiling at you as you wrote it.
December 15th, 2005 1:39 pm
you’re dad sounds like a great man, this was a beautiful tribute to him.
December 15th, 2005 1:58 pm
I love this post 60, Colleen. It is beautiful. I love how you made that necklace and I love how you described him. He was a great man, and you are the sweetest daughter.
December 15th, 2005 2:45 pm
Yeah, I’m all over the 60, Colleen. I love my dad 60 too, and they loved us at least that much, I am sure.
December 15th, 2005 4:09 pm
That’s was so nice, reading those 13 things about your Dad…I almost did 13 things about my Mom today.
December 15th, 2005 7:06 pm
What a beautiful post, Colleen. I bet your dad would laugh and laugh if he read this!
December 15th, 2005 7:28 pm
What a truly touching post..you bring tears to my eyes Colleen…such a loving wonderful Daddy you had…and all that you say about him warms my heart and I didn’t even know him. Lovely Lovely Tribute and such sweet memories.
I did my thirteen, but cannot get how to do the blogrolling deal…so, I’ll just say, Do Come By, and visit today…(which I know you probably will, anyway…) (lol)
December 15th, 2005 7:47 pm
A touching post Colleen. I was lucky, my father quit drinking before things went from bad to worse. He has been sober for almost 15 years no. Thank you for reminding us to remember the good things and the happy memories.
Thanks for the tips about the birds for apartments. I’ve been thinking of a cocketiel… they seem like very friendly birds with a lot of personality. I just might give my landlord a call this weekend……
December 15th, 2005 8:16 pm
Hello Colleen! Thank you for sharing your TT with me. I am truly appreciative. Your dad sounds like a one of a kind original special person! :o) You are so lucky to have such beautiful memories! I love the Irish blessings!!! Thank you for reminding me of what truly is important! :o)
December 15th, 2005 8:28 pm
Although my dad battled alcoholism, he was sober for over 20 years. I guess I should clarify for this post that he was in the hospital due to a car accident. Back to the drawing board.
I don’t remember giving advice about birds in apartments. There must be another Colleen out there. Hello.
December 16th, 2005 7:55 am
I don’t know if I can go to work after this one Colleen. The list is sooooo dad. I thank you for it.
Through the tears, what I found “interesting” is that dad read us the “Snow Queen” when we were kids, which I do NOT remember in any way shape or form, and yet… I’ve had a draw towards anything Hans Christian Andersen for as long as I can remember…it must spring from his reading us that. And “interesting” too, is that I just wrote about Andersen the other day on my blog: http://ben-gal.tripod.com/index.blog?entry_id=1305993 I called it, “Odin Story Day” because in Denmark, his birthplace, they honor him yearly on his birthday.
Great one Col.
Love, Kathy
Life is something!
I love you, Kathy
December 16th, 2005 8:17 am
What a beautiful Thirteen. I have to say I smiled, giggled and got teary eyed. Your dad must have been wonderful. You seem to be just as wonderful. I’m sure he felt so much love for and from you.
Take care
December 17th, 2005 11:04 am
This is a wonderful tribute, to bring your dad into the “13 tradition” and to share more of him with us.
December 17th, 2005 3:57 pm
Thanks for sharing that with us readers. Hugs to you.
December 17th, 2005 8:15 pm
I often thought my dad resembled Jackie Gleason in looks and voice. We are also of Irish ancestory. I understand how much you must miss him.