By Judy Berman
Photographs and memories, snippets of a song, so many things remind me of my Dad.
Strolling thru a park, I see a father pushing his daughter on a swing. That takes me back to a wild ride one winter with my Dad on a sled.
A little boy runs up, breathless with excitement. His Dad puts down his cell phone and listens attentively as his son recounts the day’s events. Those special times are fleeting.
How I looked forward to when my Dad came home from work so I could tell him all that happened that day.
A man ran, holding onto his daughter’s bike, until he felt she was confident enough to ride the bike on her own. Another father showed his son the fine art of flying a kite. If I could just turn back the hands of time and return to those days.
I remember my excitement when Dad converted an old orange crate and roller skates into a sidewalk-worthy race car. All the neighborhood kids were eagerly waiting their turn for a ride.
As I look thru old family photos at faded photographs, I also see my Dad’s humor and patience.
In one, our car is by the side of a long, lonely stretch of road. It had overheated. Dad, his hand to his head, playfully milked the moment for a joke. Then he got down to business and got the car running smoothly again.
In all these moments, Dad is with me still. He’s never far from my thoughts.
For all Dads, step-Dads, Big Brothers … Happy Father’s Day. Give yours an extra hug from me.
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* Photo: Dad – Joseph H. Fiet III and me, Dad clowning around when our car’s overheated
* Photo: Dad and Judy (me)
* Photo: Dad and me, Dad working to get the car running again.
