I do have a couple of crafty blogs almost ready to finish up but today I had a great day and wanted to share it with you.
It started off with a haircut - when you have short hair like I do, its important to get it shaped (in my case - actually needs lots of thinning and cutting) every 4 weeks. So that was good.
Then it was errands and a little shopping before I went to Curves after which 14 Curves friends celebrated our August birthdays. So much fun - very good food - and lots of laughter!
I had to leave before everyone else did because I was going to see my Dad! My hubby fixed his park bench and I went to paint/stain it for him. When I got there he had begun the project. Dad is 87 and still pretty sharp but his painting skills have definitely gone down hill and I'm not an expert. First of all he was staining in the sun so things got sticky/tacky and uneven.
So together we finished staining the bench. It was fun for both of us. So I stayed and he talked and I listened and it was great. I sure love my Dad!
Bonnie
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Monday, August 22, 2011
Thursday, November 11, 2010
My Dad My Hero
Today is the day we honor our fallen and active military men and women and our veterans of all wars. There is no mail - federal buildings are closed - many activities are planned.
My Dad is a WWII survivor. He quit high school to join the Marines when word of the bombing of Pearl Harbor spread throughout his neighborhood. Many of his friends declared they wouldn't sign up to fight and possibly be killed. There wasn't a moment's pause for my Dad to decide he would go to serve his country.
I grew up hearing my Dad tell stories of the war in the Pacific. Many Dads didn't speak a word of their experiences. I heard his stories many times. He needs to talk about that time and he does to this day. He is 86 and sometimes wonders why he has lived this long. He still has much to accomplish and writes a newsletter his Marine Division.
As he talks I see him as the 17 year old high school kid whose parents wouldn't sign the papers so he could enlist and then wearing them down - they consent. He completes his training and is sent off in a huge ship where he was almost crushed when transferring from the boat to the ship. The ocean was so rough that as he climbed the chain ladders to board the ship the waves lifted then crashed the boat into the ship and at that moment hands lifted him up into the ship. Then they sailed across the Pacific to land on unprotected island shores with snipers in the trees shooting at the young Marines running for cover holding their weapons above their heads to keep them out of the water. Later when a fellow Marine was killed, he was told to pick up the large BAR weapon and carried it in many battles. He was wounded twice.
He isn't a large man but he is a huge hero. His stories are detailed and he cries when he remembers the battles and the deaths of his friends.
We owe them. We honor them. I love him.
My Dad is a WWII survivor. He quit high school to join the Marines when word of the bombing of Pearl Harbor spread throughout his neighborhood. Many of his friends declared they wouldn't sign up to fight and possibly be killed. There wasn't a moment's pause for my Dad to decide he would go to serve his country.
I grew up hearing my Dad tell stories of the war in the Pacific. Many Dads didn't speak a word of their experiences. I heard his stories many times. He needs to talk about that time and he does to this day. He is 86 and sometimes wonders why he has lived this long. He still has much to accomplish and writes a newsletter his Marine Division.
As he talks I see him as the 17 year old high school kid whose parents wouldn't sign the papers so he could enlist and then wearing them down - they consent. He completes his training and is sent off in a huge ship where he was almost crushed when transferring from the boat to the ship. The ocean was so rough that as he climbed the chain ladders to board the ship the waves lifted then crashed the boat into the ship and at that moment hands lifted him up into the ship. Then they sailed across the Pacific to land on unprotected island shores with snipers in the trees shooting at the young Marines running for cover holding their weapons above their heads to keep them out of the water. Later when a fellow Marine was killed, he was told to pick up the large BAR weapon and carried it in many battles. He was wounded twice.
He isn't a large man but he is a huge hero. His stories are detailed and he cries when he remembers the battles and the deaths of his friends.
We owe them. We honor them. I love him.
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