Friday Flashback for 15 June 07

For Father's Day, my sister and I would get Dad some pretty, um, interesting gifts.

One year, Tori gave Dad an ashtray, despite the fact that Dad had quit smoking years before. Of course, there was always the compliment of ties and tie-tacks and socks. We even tried the breakfast in bed thing, but Dad never liked to eat in bed, so he'd get up and come to the table in the kitchen to eat.

We sure could have used those gift cards that are so popular now back then. Then Dad could've gotten something he really needed. But he always appreciated everything we gave him, and probably kept everything until the day he died. Dad was a packrat that way.

My dad was a sentimental man. And on this Father's Day, just like the ones over the past seven years, I will think of him and be a little sad.

Miss you, Dad.

That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Dari's Friday Flashback

My sister and I were invited to many birthday parties when we were little kids, mostly for other kids in the neighborhood. This one stands out...

It was for John, the boy who lived on the corner. He was my age, and his sister, Susan, was a year older.

As usual, Mom had us dress up in nice clothes for the party, not realizing (or not being told) that the party was in the local public park. So, there Tori and I stood, in our nice party clothes, not being able to do anything for fear of getting our clothes dirty. We were able to play the party games, such as pin the tail on the donkey, but when it came time for the racing games, or the playground games, we were just out of luck. If I had thought about it enough, I would have felt stupid, but when you're a 7 or 8 year old, you just haven't lived long enough to be embarrassed. I think it was our mom who was embarrassed more than Tori and I could ever be at that age.

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That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Dari's Friday Flashback

My dad got a job transfer in the summer of 1970, and we were in the process of moving from San Francisco to Orange County, CA. I was six years old, my sister was five, and our half brother, who lived with his mother and was going with us as part of his summer with dad, was nine.

It was during this move that my sister and I took our first trip on an airplane.

We stayed in a hotel called the Newporter Inn (in Newport Beach) for about 2 or 3 weeks while my parents looked for a house. We found the house in Costa Mesa and moved in in late June.

My mother sold that house thirty years to the month later after my dad passed away and moved to Oklahoma.


That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Dari's Friday Flashback #3

This will be a short one...

Ford put out the first Mustangs when I was about 4 months old. When I was three or four years old, I told my mom that I'd buy her one someday.

Forty years later, I haven't. If I do buy one (highly unlikely at this point in time), I'll let my mom drive it. If she wants to. She's still kinda skittish behind the wheel, and she's been driving for thirty five years!

That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Dari's Friday Flashback #2

For today, hmmm, let's see...

I was thinking about this just the other day-- the ponytails my mom used to fix my hair into when I was 6, 7, 8 years old. My hair was quite long, so Mom would give me braids, or just separate my hair into equal sections and use an elastic to secure them. It was easier for her, because she's the one who brushed my hair out each night before I went to bed, and it kept my hair out of my face when I was playing outside with my neighborhood friends.*

Then, one summer, I begged my parents to let me cut my hair. They relented and it was cut from waist length to just below the shoulder. By that time, Mom was letting me fix my own hair.

Now, it's short. The last time it was really long was 1999. The longer it got, the worse it looked, so I chopped it all off. I don't think it's been longer than shoulder length since then. It's a lot easier to manage now.

*Yes, that's what we kids did in the 70's-- we played outside until dark. No video games and crap back then.

That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Dari's Friday Flashback #1

Since my childhood was well more than 10 years ago, I thought I'd play along.

And, since Mother's Day is this weekend, I'll start off with this:

For as long as I could remember, my dad always got my mom a card and a gift for Mother's Day. He did it for other special occasions, too, and he did it every time without fail. Sometimes, the cards were funny, or the gift was meant to represent some inside joke between the two of them, or something to just let her know that he appreciated her a lot.

My parents were not the kind to show affection in front of their kids. That's just the way they were. It was part of their upbringing. So when Dad did peck Mom on the cheek for something, my sister and I were surprised.

Dad gave Mom Mother's Day gifts long after we grew up and moved away. Mom didn't stop being a mom when we went out on our own, after all.

My dad died on October 8, 1999. The first Mother's Day after that, when there wasn't the usual card at Mom's place at the table, was the first real time since he died that she cried.

A couple months later, Mom put the house we grew up in on the market, and when it was sold, moved here to Oklahoma.

And I'm sure she thinks about Dad everyday. I know I do.
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That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--