A Special Guy who loved red

Today is the day that my greatly loved Dad passed away, 13 years ago.  I can't believe that he's been gone almost as long as I knew him.  But like my mom said today, memories can keep people alive in us.  The recent recurring memory that has waltzed into my thoughts (Dad taught me how to waltz, sort of) is an 'after dinner' memory....the scent of garlic still lingers in the air from another delicious experiment for dinner and Dad is standing over the stove meticulously scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing.  It's funny that THIS is what I remember because I really hate cleaning, especially tasks like the stove.  Ugh.  It is comforting to know I'm not the only one who has ever had to do it.

I often remember getting tucked in at night, after I was really "too old" to be tucked in.  He would slowly walk up the stairs and pause in my doorway.  He probably thought I was asleep but maybe he knew I was up and about until I saw the hallway light switch on and then scrambled into bed.

He watched all of my performances with great attention and being a head taller than most in the audience, I could always find his face when I needed an encouraging smile.  He nicknamed all of my friends according to something silly they had done; Flowergirl (for parking her bike in Mom's flowers), Crash (for crashing into the tree whilst tree swinging), Smurfette and Squirrel (?)...you get the picture.

I love hugs and kisses, just like him.  He gave to me his love of travel and his curiosity about the world.  I get really angry during sporting events and that is certainly not from my mother.  He was proud, loving, a teeny bit stubborn, and really really great to be around.  And the man just loved red!  And we (still) love him.