Pop

Happy Father's Day to my dad. He is one strong, resilient guy. He had to live in a household full of women with my mom and sisters, living far away from his family and homeland. Novels could be written, and have been written, to tell of all the craziness my dad has experienced, yet his faith, strength and sense-of-humor flourish. I know he has had a lot of pain. He is a sensitive man. He is an artist. He is unique. I am very lucky to have had him in my life. He was 50 when I was born, yet his vim and vigor is more than most guys half his age. Oh, boy, as I'm writing this Whit is throwing out a string of cheesy jokes and I realize this is something he shares with my dad. Growing up with my dad we all had plenty of moments of rolling our eyes at his jokes and puns - lots of hiding our heads in embarrassment. Now, of course, this is one of my favorite things about him and I find I love making cheesy jokes and puns too. I mean, let's be serious, look at the title of my blog - the puns still amuses me. I appreciate his example. Things sometimes felt rocky as a kid, but when I look back I realize I am really lucky to have had a strange, bizarre, German, upbringing. I wouldn't trade it for a second. I remember he played lots of games with us. I remember he would play Candyland with me while he watched the evening news. I remember he would pretend to be some sort of Frankenstein monster in the dark and chase us around. I remember him rocking me back and forth like I was on a ship. I remember him hiding objects around the house for us to find. I remember playing bocce ball. I loved our road trips. I loved enjoying nature with him. I love his deep love and respect of animals. I am grateful for my Pop.