I’m Thankful for Memories of My Father

I have a couple of topics ready to post, but because its almost Thanksgiving, I thought that I would switch it up for a couple of posts.

The reason that I chose to share some of my favorite memories about my father first is because earlier this week a friend that is a member of the same Golf Course as myself lost his father, unexpectedly. 25 years later I still get that same pang and heaviness in my heart when I find out that someone whom I know loses their father. As I can relate to how someone feels when they lose a father, my advice to them is always to keep their memory alive, share your memories of your loved one with your children, and your family.

While I have so many memories that I can share, that could keep you reading for hours; I’ve chosen a few to share. A few that I hold near & dear to my heart.

Memory 1…
While this is one that I can’t really remember, it was a story that my dad would remind me of several times throughout life.  Dad & I were headed to Grandma & Grandpa’s; westbound on either River Road or Michillinda.  It’s odd that I can remember this part; I would stand in the front, middle seat; my left arm around my dads neck, holding his beer in my right hand. He had it made; he had a human beer holder. We came upon a one vehicle motorcycle accident; the driver was of the side of the road, but was visibly in shock, trying to get up, yelling, etc. Being a police officer, my dad stopped, cracked the window and told me to stay put. Several minutes had gone by, dad got the guy calmed  down – he had a protruding femur.  Me, being the cute, mischievous blonde that I was, noticing the guy was no longer moving; stuck my head out the window and yelled “Is he dead yet dad”? Needless to say he wasn’t and dad had to calm him down once again.  That was a story he reminded me of every chance that he could.

Memory 2…
When we were in middle school, dad was on day shift road patrol. I don’t remember if he was actually stationed or not in Whitehall, but he would always show up at our bus stop a few days a week.  We grew up in a large neighborhood, there were several of us at the bus stop each day. Being the tom boy that I was, I always wanted to compete with the boys. Dad would have us line up at a landmark; he would get his radar gun ready and he would have each of us run; 1 at a time. He would then tell us who the winner was.  Back then, I thought that I was a bad ass because I beat all of the boys, but I soon came to realize that dad, being dad and not wanting to let me down would allow the only girl racing…..take the win.  I’m not sure why I remember this silly memory; but I think of it each time I drive by our old bus stop.

Memory 3…
This is one of those; I love my dad to death and I’m so proud, but at the same time so mortified and embarrassed that he would dress so hideous and walk through my high school. With dad being a public figure; everyone knew who he was; especially the upper class-men in the high school that had a bit of a rebellious side!  My Dad was part of the Narcotics Team for Muskegon County. He spent several hours in the schools, lecturing to classes with his “kit” full of drugs & paraphernalia.  He cared so much about educating the students on how negatively drugs impacted our lives.  Whether the kids at my school were on the right or wrong side of the law; they respected Detective VanHemert; his hideous Turquoise Suit Jacket & Tan Pants and all.  He had a wonderful way with people and somehow understood people on all levels and that gained him a lot of respect in the community.  I look at this memory; and yes – I was embarrassed at his apparel, but I was so proud of him and was proud to see him at my school. I look at these attributes that he had and see some of those in myself. I can proudly smile, knowing that he is touched that I’ve inherited that trait.

Memory 4…
Dad took us to Youth Group every Wednesday night; that was his visitation night. I always looked forward to this day; not only did I get to see dad, I got to go to Youth Group and learn.  I can’t remember the exact timing, but not too long before dads demise he began (selflessly) picking up these young children (toe heads) from a rundown house on the way to youth group.  I remember seeing their milk and cold products sitting on their back porch. When dad explained about their electricity, etc. I was old enough to feel, and it made me very sad for these kids. The young boy, especially, clung to dad. You could tell he adored him and the help he was providing his family.  We’d take a milk or some other product when he’d pick them up. I’m sure dad did a lot more than I ever knew.  The reason this is my memory and I have never been able to shake it nor erase it from my mind is because of this:  For most of my dads visitation I was literally numb; but the moment that the mother walked through the door with those poor children my eyes were drawn to them. I was fixated on them. The boy looked so withdrawn and so very sad & lost. The man that was saving them couldn’t save himself. The thoughts that had to have been going through their heads. That cute, little toe-head boy will never know why this happened, why the man that was “saving” them was gone.  This is obviously a favorite memory for a couple of reasons: My father was selfless, he made an impact on so many, and I always cherished my Wednesday nights.

Memory 5…
I could continue with several memories, but I will leave you with this last memory. The night before he left me forever. I was working on my English Paper, dad called us close to 9:00 pm. I remember the entire context of this conversation and it will be with me forever. I knew the moment that we began speaking that something was different, but me being a 16 year old girl chalked it up to dad being dad (a sap).  We chatted about Youth Group, and while he was usually pretty good about me bringing my best friend, Jamie – when I asked that time; he didn’t hesitate one bit. He told me that would be fine, I could do whatever I wanted to do. that was not a normal comment. I kind of figured he was just sick of my persistence 🙂  The he went on and kept telling me how much he loved me and how proud he was of me and told me that he will always be watching me and will always make sure that I was taken care of. This part I regret—I began rushing him “whatever dad #16yearoldeyeroll” He repeated it again. He emphasized and asked me if I understood how much he loved me and would make sure I am taken care of and that he will look out for me. I, of course told him yes, because I already knew this.  People can take that any way that they want. I’ve had a lot of time to process that conversation and I received his message loud and clear, and I continue to receive it.  I am sad that I rushed him off the phone telling him I loved him and I’d see him the next day; if I would have known that would be the last time I personally spoke with him, I would’ve kept him on the phone all night.

I guess that although the last two memories end with sadness; they wouldn’t be memories if I didn’t have time with my dad and the point that I am trying to make to everyone, especially the people that are always complaining that their life is so bad, that they have nothing to be thankful for, etc.  We all have something to be thankful for. We may not have the easiest ride in life, but at the end of each day; you should always be able to share something you are thankful for.

I know I’ve been dealt a pretty difficult hand, but I will never, ever complain that my life sucks. Circumstances that have been beyond my control suck; but I choose to live and be thankful for my life. The things that I share here may make it seem different; it isn’t different – those are just circumstances and moments.  Be thankful for this life.