Sunday, June 21, 2009

Happy Father’s Day

Hello Everyone,

Happy Father’s Day!

Today, I’m blogging about different kinds of fathers, some good, some mediocre, and then the really bad ones. When I get done with my examples let me know where you father falls in the mix.

Here’s my idea of a good father. He provides a home, food, and clothing for his family for sure. The man puts in overtime to make more money to provide for extras for them. He spends time playing, talking and possibly building something for his children when he’s not working. He hands out discipline when it is needed, and when he’s home to give it.

Okay, the men who represent good fathers to me are my Uncle Ray, my brother-in-law, Jon, my hubby and our son, Mike. All right, all right, so they aren’t perfect. We know no one is perfect, don’t we?

Uncle Ray worked way too many hours in his business, and if he ever dished discipline I never saw it, but he always played with his boys, his nieces, and nephew. He attended his oldest son’s sports events, took the family camping and went to church. He provided a lovely home, food, and clothing for his family. His one fault is that he burnt the candle at both ends and died young at forty-eight trying to please everyone. In the end, he was not able to be there for his family..

My brother-in-law, Jon, ranks up there as a good father. He worked hard providing a home, food and clothing for his family. He attended his daughters’ sports, singing and dancing events. He played all kinds of games with them, attended church with them, and was always willing to listen to them. He’s always been there to help his children even as they grew into adults. His fault is that he never disciplined his kids, and that was all left to their mother. Lol There always has to be one bad parent.

My hubby, Ron, ranks up there, too, even though I didn’t see him with his children when they were young. He worked hard to provide a home, food and clothing for his family. Like all fathers’ including the two above, he built a patio and worked in the yard. He played catch with his boys, and convinced his oldest son he should have a part-time job to make spending money. Lol Ron was a worker, and that is really all he knew how to do, so that was mostly what he did with his kids. His job required him to have seniority to get special days off, and because of that he was prevented from attending his children’s activities and special events when they were young. In those days, people were honest and didn’t call in sick. They needed and valued their jobs. The lucky guy was the soul disciplinarian. His one fault that I saw was that he was a nagger. He went over the same thing over and over with his kids. I especially saw this with him, and his youngest daughter and son. For some reason, once wasn’t enough to get through to them. Lol

Our son, Mike, is another good father. He worked hard to provide all the necessities and more for his family. He played with his children, took his son fishing, attended all their school activities and was there for them all the time. If he dished out discipline I never saw it, but I’m sure he talked to his kids. Did he talk as much as his father did to him? Only, our grandchildren know that answer. Grin. His one fault was he wasn’t a handy man. Sorry, Mike. Love you!

Now, we’re getting to the mediocre fathers. These were difficult because some people would consider them bad fathers, but there are even worse fathers than these.

My father is one of these. He tried to provide a home, food and clothing for us when we were kids, but in truth he didn’t do any of these things. My maternal grandparents provided our house and grandma made our clothes. My mom raised chickens to provide food for us and to make extra money to buy other food items. Dad gave mom grocery money, but it was never enough. The things I remember most doing with my father, although fun when I was young, were mostly his fun things. For instance, he liked going to field trials with his dogs (our mom made these into picnics for us kids) and he liked playing pool and partying (none of which we enjoyed), but he would buy us ice cream cones. He was fun to be around. Did he work? Yes, he drove a truck and was out of state a lot. He would give his shirt off his back to a stranger, but often didn’t provide enough food for his family. He was mostly out of my life after I turned thirteen. His biggest fault was he was abusive. I had the belt taken to me until I was lying on the floor still being beaten with my mother trying to stop him. He never ever hit my mother. I will defend my father a bit because he grew up with a father who did the same. Then at nine his father died and he was left to fend for himself because his mother remarried and her new husband wouldn’t raise her children.

This next father I’m not going to give a name to. This father has provided a home, clothing and food for his children. His twenty-one year old daughter is dying of esophageal cancer and he’s in denial. He’s an alcoholic and his daughter is in the last six to eight weeks of her life needing twenty-four hour care. He will not allow hospice to come to their home because that would mean she’s dying, so they have a visiting nurse. The visiting nurse has shown everyone how to give the young woman her pain meds through a port and how to flush it out. The father is sleeping on the floor beside the hospital bed, but when he goes to sleep from drinking too much his daughter cannot wake him when she needs him. She fell on the steps trying to get to the restroom and called for help, but couldn’t wake her dad. Her dad can’t do the meds, and she has to either do them herself or suffer when he’s with her. You may ask where her mother is, but her birth mother has been out of the picture for a very long time, and she’s an alcoholic, too. The step-mom (the father and her are divorced) is trying to make sure someone is with her stepdaughter at all hours, but she has no rights, and she has a job. None of the good fathers would ever allow alcohol to stand in their way of taking care of a dying daughter.

Next, are the bad fathers and I’ve never known any of these. These men might be called monsters even. These men break the bones of their small children and are way beyond abusive. Some of these men have raped their children, even killed them. I’ve never met a father like this, but I have heard of them. We have been lucky indeed if we didn’t have a father like these men.

One other I’m going to add is that all of us are a product of our environment or of our genetics.

Tell me about your father and where he falls in this mix.

Until next Sunday, have a great week.



Kt bishop said...

I didn't have a father present. I try to be the best father I can.

Stacey Joy Netzel said...

My father yelled a lot as I was growing up, but I always knew he loved me and he provided for us always. He's still there whenever we need him, and yes, he still yells, but we just yell back now or laugh at him. It frustrates him sometimes that he raised such strong, independant children who now don't always listen, but I also know he's very proud of me and my 3 siblings. A few weeks ago, I had to put up a new horse fence and I jokingly asked him when he'd be down (from 1hr away) to help. He called me a few days before to ask when I wanted him at the house. Not about to turn down the help, I told him and was up early to be ready when he got there. My 15 yr old son and I didn't wait for him to start, and we got a bunch of stuff done before he arrived. At which time he promptly began telling me how to do everything. I looked at my son and said, "I don't know how in the world we got anything done before he got here." My son laughed and enjoyed our bickering, and it was heartening to hear him tell Grandpa that Mom doesn't yell half as much. LOL My dad goes to Country USA (5 day music festival) with me and my two older sisters every year, and we have a great time. (We go to movies with Mom because she doesn't like crowds.) Despite the yelling growing up, I wouldn't trade my dad for anything!

Sandy said...


That's all any father can do. Sometimes, it's enough, and sometimes it's not. You can only hope when they grow up it'll have been enough.

Sandy said...

That's a wonderful story, Stacey.

Some kids would think their dad was a bad father because he yelled at them, and wouldn't realize how much he loved them.

Thanks so much for stopping by and leaving your comment.

Anonymous said...

My father took us fishing and took my brother hunting. He was more the outdoorsy type and did those types of things with us.

One thing I can say for sure, Sandy, is that I appreciate all he did for me when I was a teenager and in trouble. He never turned me away. He always loved me through thick and thin.

He is currently battling and winning against cancer so I thank my lucky stars that he his around.

I love him with all that I am.


Sandy said...


I'm glad your father is still around,too. He sounds like a lovely man.

My uncle Ray also hunted, and took his oldest son hunting. His youngest son came ten years later than his first son, so he didn't get to do as much with him. That son liked to follow his dad around handing him tools in his garage when he was little.

J Hali said...

Oh, Sandy, you always get to me with your posts.

My father left ALL the discipline to my Mom. He worked long hours, had a contracting business on the side. But I do remember the baseball games. He loved it and played on a local team for a long time. My Mom would dress (all 8!) us and take us to those games.

So, he gave me that - my love of baseball. It's enough.

Sandy said...

Good for you, Joann. He may not have been around a lot, but you found something good about him.

Z(Aasiyah/Nolwynn) said...

My dad was and still is a yeller, with a temper that could boil ice water! But his bark was always stronger than his bite, since he never bit! Discipline, the actual get-in-here-you-little-git-or-I'll-box-your-ears-till-they-turn-red was my mom's thing.

What I do remember of my early childhood with my dad was how I'd sit in his lap on evenings and watch TV. Thing is, he wasn't home often in evenings, being a nurse and thus most often on night duty. So it could happen my brother and I left for work/school (work for him since he's 16 years my senior) and by the time we get back home, my dad had come back and left again for night duty. He provided for us alright - there never was anything I was refused, but he made sure to nurture my love and need for stuff in the direction of books. He'd have the patience of a saint with me (even if he blows his top every 2.5 seconds otherwise!) at the bookstore and wait for me for hours to select what book I wanted. When I became older, he nurtured my language skills by challenging me to Scrabble games at every opportunity. By then he had become the hospital administrator, so no more night duty. And when I was in high school, he encouraged me to brush up on current events and world politics and we could talk and debate well into the night in a heated argument that you'd need a referee to break (my mom threw in the towel there a long time ago, lol!)

Today my dad is still all this and much more to me, but I feel a heavy weight in my heart every time I see him. At 74 now, he's still the man I remember in my mind, but I cannot evade the fact that I know he is older and not as strong physically, and that his health is not so stellar either. I guess that's love, this really hard, gripping hold squeezing your heart when you look at someone... That's what takes over me when I see or think of my dad these days.

Sandy, I'm sorry you went through all you did when you were younger. But then again, what we go through shapes us into who and what we are today, and I know you're a wonderful lady I'm honoured to call my friend.



Sandy said...

Thanks, Z.

Your father sounds wonderful in spite of the heated temper. I know how you feel about him because at 73 is not as physically strong either and with his deteriorating eyesight I look at him and see how he is becoming more frail.

In defense of my father, I can say his childhood was much worse than mine. Dumped out on the street by his mother at nine and raised by a 15 year old sister who was a child herself was not easy for him. He never ever hit my mom, and I feel he did the best he could under the circumstances.


Anonymous said...

Touching post, Sandy.

I have a father I love dearly. Who would go to the end of the world for me. If I called him tonight and said I want popcorn and we're out in Houston, he would get in his car and drive the 700 miles to bring me popcorn.

His fault...and yes he does have them. Is that he was ten times the father that he was husband.


Sandy said...

Hi Christie,

Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to stop by and comment.

Now, that's a lot of love for a father to drive 700 miles to bring his daughter popcorn. lol

Some men weren't meant to be father's, some weren't meant to be husband's and some weren't meant to be either.

Chiron said...

Hi Sandy,

Great post about fathers! Unfortunately, my dad died at age 36 about three months shy of my fourth birthday so I didn't have a father to know. We had an abusive, alcoholic step-dad for a few years who wreaked havoc on our lives but that's about it.

From what I gather, my dad was a good man who loved his family very much. When he died abruptly our family shattered and never was the same. I was the youngest and so pretty much missed out on the happy times.

Sandy said...


I'm so sorry you lost your father so young. My youngest cousin lost his father, Uncle Ray, at the age of nine, so he at least has memories of his father.

Thank goodness, your mom decided to get out of the abusive relationship with your step-dad. That's always a sad situation.

Thanks for commenting, Chiron.