IF ONLY WE COULD HAVE HAD MORE THURSDAYS

How ironic that my last blog entry was August 12, 2013 and my father died August 22, 2013.  What can I say, my dad was bigger than life to me, I’m almost 71 and he was my daddy and I was his little girl!  As the story goes he would come home every night after plugging songs to some of the great singers and band leaders of the 50’s to give me my 2 AM feeding.

I have so many daddy daughter memories, One of my vivid memories was to dance on his toes.  Mom and Dad were amazing dancers and I always loved to dance too.  But as a little girl on his toes I would hop when he arrived home earlier and my arms would reach up to his hands and we’d dance singing “dance with a dolly with a hold in her stocking, knees keep a knockin, toes keep a rockin” and that with my butterfly kisses, he was my cat’s meow.  And how he loved dogs often bringing home strays much to my mother’s chagrin!

He also gave me elocution lessons “how now brown cow” had to be pronounced with dramatic influence and conviction whether it was said as a question, a statement of fact, and with each variety of emotions articulating was important. since I was a little girl I wanted to be a singer or a doctor but daddy protected me fiercely from realizing these dreams being a singer.   It was a rough biz in the day and to get anywhere you had to sleep around which of course he didn’t want to subject me to that world and I guess he didn’t see phi beta kappa in me so the doctor idea was ruled out as was singing because in his way of thinking you had to be unique and the best – a message I obviously believed—all the while it was his way protecting me from failure and he was probably doing the right thing because I found my darling Stan and we married when I was 20 and daddy not only adored him like a son but proud of him.

When I did begin to sing professionally in night clubs in my late fifties and he no longer felt threatened for me, he would remind me how to project the lyric and sing with dramatics.  He was always happy to come to see me and holding on to each note with me.

Dad was my emotional anchor, always.  If I had a problem, no matter what, he would want me to talk to him about it.  He wanted everyone to come to him. This would not only make him feel useful and helpful but he truly felt he could help everyone do the right thing, according to him.  He was actually insulted when I told him I was seeing a therapist and not him!

He never purchased anything unless he could pay cash for it and often distressed with me because we didn’t abide by his creedo!  Helping me and my brother out of financial jams along the way was again another way he felt was protecting his kids.

In the past year as it became more difficult for him to sit at his desk which is where he spent a lot of time doing his WORK, or in his recliner receiving his emails off the TV or watching his favorite shows, he was playing bridge with his bridge buddies, a bridge master he was and told you so.  Dad valued each day and especially those that included bridge.  A huge thank you to his bridge buddies for helping to make his life so valued, having each day to look forward to what he loved to do.  Play bridge!  I recently took up the game and so enjoyed sharing his knowledge with me, a language I now understood.

Dad had many interests besides bridge and golf which he played for many years, having to give that up not that long before he hung up his car keys.  When mother died in 2006, Dad was very lonely and having reasonable expectations from me that I could not always fulfill.  Dad needed a perk!  It was around 2007 that I created my own dating service asking friends if they knew a wonderful women with several criteria, they had to live in the valley, drive, play bridge and love music; well, a dear friend had just the woman and we made the introduction.  It worked and she became Dad’s lady friend and together they enjoyed a beautiful chapter in both their lives from seeing every movie the minute they were released, playing bridge, singing together, celebrating Shabbat with her family and HE became a patriarch figure in her family as well.

Our families found great joy in their new chapter and relief too, I must admit, and our family circle enlarged.  With their busy schedule we still found time, celebrating many Shabbats with our family and friends, to which he always looked forward. 

AND as his health was declining, in order to see me more often, it was never enough time,  I became his bookkeeper.  Oy did we fight!  I learned what OCD was from my father for every nickel he spent he kept journals, his check books etc all had to be placed in a certain way, and I couldn’t rearrange one thing.  With every check I wrote, he asked, “did you write on the stub what it was for” …’yes dad” … “did you write the check number and date on the statement” he would question.  "Yes, I did, dad” to "did you stamp it" and on and on.  Well, of course, at the time it was frustrating and now I only wish we could have had more Thursdays.  Interesting note he died on a Thursday as did my mother.