We had such a great response to our call for stories about fathers that we’re running more in this issue as a follow-up to our first feature Wednesday.
A reminder: Father’s Day is June 15.
Chicago transplant, and now happy Vancouverite, Kristi Lundgren is missing her dad this Father’s Day but took the time to share this story with Courier readers.
I spent days thinking of the perfect story about my dad, but the truth is virtually every story about my dad is perfect in its own little way. Not only is he the funniest person I’ve ever met, he is also the most loving, caring and hardest-working man in the world. In. The. World.
Whether he is sacrificing his own reputation to make someone laugh or going miles out of his way to lend a helping hand, I think everyone who knows him would agree with me saying he’s the guy who can make your day a little brighter or your load a little lighter.
While scrolling through my memory banks, I landed on a story that always makes me laugh regardless of what my current mood may be. Par three golf course, circa 1999 — my dad tees off and slices the ball directly into a nearby backyard, striking a barbecue at full force.
Being the gentleman my dad is, he apologized to the owner who was standing less than five feet away from the grill. He then proceeded to put another ball on the tee, perfect his stance, ignore what had just happened, swing his club — and hit the ball into her barbecue. Again. To which the woman replied: “I’ve lived here for 25 years and nobody has ever done that once, let alone twice in a row.”
To me, that’s not poor golfing ability, that’s accuracy and consistency. Look out, Tiger Woods. And, even though we’re 2,156 miles apart, stories like this (and a multitude of others) remind me that absolutely no distance will ever come between our connection, our history and all he has taught me.
Victoria resident and vancourier.com online reader Judith Fenner remembers her dad’s sometimes cryptic words of wisdom that still make her smile when she thinks about them today.
Two things my dad always said that I think were funny were, if we asked him what something was he usually said: “It’s a phoo-phoo valve for a teddy bear’s arsehole.” (Not sure if you can print that).
Then, if we asked him were something of ours was, he’d say: “Up in Nellie’s room behind the radiator.” No one knew who Nellie was and no one had a radiator.
Janis Dalgleish, multimedia sales representative for the Vancouver Courier and Glacier Media Group, had this to say about her dad:
When I was growing up my dad was always supportive of me playing golf. He would always include me when he was going, whether with my mom and my brother (my sisters were NOT sporty), extended family with aunts and uncles, or even the neighbours he played with every week.
Not one to be a know-it-all, he only gave small pointers, but was very proud of my swing. He would yell to other golfers at the local course, “Hey watch her tee off.” That would embarrass me to death, and usually the pressure would mean I would flub the shot.
One thing he would always say is, “You will find a husband when you’re at the golf course.” He was always right. I was at the driving range practising my swing one day, when I met a guy. Ended up with that guy for 12 years now. Not only that but my dad and my guy share a birthday.
Courier reader Tracy Pullman Selock remembers the day her dad turned the tables on her and her twin sister Sherry one hot summer’s day.
It was a summer afternoon in Chilliwack and all of us kids decided we needed to start a water fight. My sister and I grabbed buckets and jugs we filled with water and as we were outside throwing it at each other, having a lot of fun, my dad arrived home.
We decided it would be funny to throw the water at my dad, but he grabbed the hose, spraying us all. Everyone was laughing and having a great time, but when dad started spraying us twins, we decided to hide in the house just for a break. We thought wrong.
As we ran in the house, dad followed hose and all. Needless to say, the house inside and out was soaking wet. That was the best day ever with my dad.
Kerry Lancaster says one story about her dad Bruce Fleury, which has since become a family legend, has to do with a trip to Florida. Lancaster explains her mom and dad spend their winters in Florida and during this particular visit had been at the condo for a month or so when they ran out of matches.
They needed to light the barbecue. So my dad, in great form, rolled some paper and stuck it into the toaster, which was still in the kitchen. Once the roll was on fire he ran through the living room to the barbecue outside and lit it.
Lancaster says coincidentally at the same time her brother Keith was chatting to her mom, Lynne, via Skype.
And all he could see was this flame racing through the condo. To this day the only thing my dad thinks he may have done wrong was not moving the toaster closer to the barbecue.
Drielle Tousignant wanted to share a story about her partner Jeff Panter’s introduction to fatherhood after the couple became parents to Logan six years ago.
Jeff would get up in the morning to change and feed Logan while I slept, but one morning I woke up to him yelling, “DRIELLE HURRY UP GET IN HERE” (in a sheer panic).
I bolted out of bed thinking something horrible had happened. I went around the corner and there was Jeff holding both of Logan’s legs up in the air. It was then I also noticed that Logan had pooped from the change table to down the bedroom door. Welcome to fatherhood, Jeff.
Courier staffer Jeanie Puro says her hardworking dad had the same theme song for each vacation.
When we were kids the very first thing my dad would do anytime we went on a family road trip was play Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” in the car.
We would literally back out of our drive way listening to that song. Work is one of my father’s greatest passions in life. He was so hard-working he would not allow himself to indulge in ketchup unless he was on vacation. Now he is retired after practising as an ophthalmologist for more than 30 years. Today he is enjoying ketchup and Willie Nelson.
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