Thank you for taking me to numerous Flames games, complete with nachos and malts at intermissions. My love and knowledge of the game is directly linked to you, even if I was a fair weather fan this year. I distinctly remember the moment when I grasped your explanation of an "offside." I felt so grownup giving high fives to the crew that sat around us. After the game we would hustle to the car and you would turn on the post-game wrap up on QR-77. I never really listened to what they were saying. I was just excited to swerve in and out of traffic knowing that I was up really late for a school night!
Thank you for being my being my pep-talker. Way back in grade four you told me that "when the going gets tough, the tough get going." Those pep talks continued on to my master's and even now. You sometimes had interesting ways to "encourage" but when the going got really tough, your emails really meant a lot. Other times you would just take time to proof read a paper or an application. I am still amazed at your incredible literary skills.
Thank you most of all for believing in me. It has meant more to me than you probably know. Happy birthday you handsome devil.
Love,
Your daughter.
4 comments:
Ahhh... that was a nice post. We had a good day - though typically, for us, low-key and talking of hockey - the birthday evening was spent watching Ottawa go down to defeat to Anaheim for the Stanley Cup. Oh well...
My memories of your dad consist of him sneaking chocolate behind his church program when he was up on the stand. Only a select few of us could see what was really going on.
I think he should still wear glasses like those. It'd make him even more hip than he is, methinks.
That picture freaks me out because of how much Jim looks like dad. Yikes. Granted, dad has much more hair (even still).
Hockey games were fun with dad. There are three games that stand out in my mind. The first I can remember going to was at the Corral and dad kept yelling at some player named Eric Vale and he was saying, "Have another ale, Vale". I didn't really get what he was saying, so he explained that the guy was a boozer, which I also didn't really understand but it stayed with me. The next was I almost 16 and dad's seat was drawn to go to center ice at intermission and shoot pucks to try and win a car. Dad said if he made it, the car was mine. Sadly, no dice. The last game was the one where he wore 2 different shoes to the game... one black and one brown. Colour blindness at it's cruelest.
But yeah, racing back to listen to the post-game wrap up in the car was always fun. It was always sheer terror getting out of the parking lot though. He was a tad aggressive.
dainon that is too funny. we used to tease him about falling asleep or making faces when people said ridiculous things. i forgot about the chocolate.
dani, a "tad"??? i thing the adjective (or is it adverb)
i would use is "very".
thanks mum...
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