I could call my dad and ask him to bring home Tootsie Pops and Bazooka Bubble Gum whenever I wanted. When you're seven, that's pretty amazing. None of my friends fathers could do that.
On Sundays we'd go to church. My dad was so tired that he'd fall asleep during the service. I'd be embarrassed because he snored. I was afraid others would hear him. The minute I saw his eyes were closed, I'd begin gently poking him to make sure he stayed awake. I felt it was my job. Sunday was also the day he'd play his Herb Alpert albums. He loved them. He also played my Mary Poppins and Sound of Music albums because he knew I loved them. If I happen to hear any of this music now, I immediately smile remembering those Sundays. Before the day ended, he'd make a trip to the store too. He had to make sure things were in order for the coming week. Even Sunday wasn't a total day of rest for him.
My dad was the one I'd call to bring me a glass of water at night .He was the one who would pick me up from the floor after I'd fallen out of bed. He'd also stay with me, until I fell back to sleep, when I had a bad dream.
When I was eleven, and in Shriners Hospital, my dad got the driver who delivered the Hostess Snack Cakes, to donate treats for everyone in my ward. Because the hospital only allowed visitors for an hour a day during the week and two and a half hours on Sunday, I only got to see my dad once a week. The hospital didn't allow phone calls in the evening, so he couldn't even call me. It was a long three months and ten days for both of us.
My favorite memory is watching a TV show called The Mothers-In-Law with my dad. The show starred Eve Arden and Kaye Ballard. It was about two couples who lived next door to each other. The couples children marry. The marriage of their children forces them to become closer. The reason I enjoyed watching this show with my dad was because Kaye Ballard's character was .Italian and my dad was too. Every time Kaye Ballard's character would get upset on the show, she'd begin speaking in Italian. I would keep asking my dad to tell me what she said. I don't remember if he told me. I do remember we both laughed a lot.
My died died on January 18, 1970. I was twelve years old. He didn't get to see many of my accomplishments. I hope he would be proud of me. .My did didn't say I love you a lot. He just worked hard. That's how I knew he loved us.