Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Good Deed 1

"Tell your Dad your favorite memory of him."


I have so many vivid memories of my Dad. The earliest is of him rocking me to sleep in his arms, singing in Turkish while pacing back and forth in the yellow-gold lighting of our living room. Yildizlarin altinda... I remember talking to him over the telephone (back when home telephones were still connected to the wall with curlicue wires) when he would be overseas on business trips. My Mom would ask me to sing for him before getting off of the phone, and I remember singing Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You. I remember kicking pine cones on early mornings with Dad before he would drop me off to grade school. I remember when he and Mom gave me a doll I had wanted for the longest time - a very pretty Native American doll with moccasins and a headband that I named Clover Eagle. I remember when my classroom went on a sailing trip in fourth grade and Dad was the only parent who planned ahead for seasickness by packing crackers. I think they were Ritz crackers. I remember thinking Dad was so annoying in sixth (?) grade when we went to Ano Nuevo to see the elephant seals because he had insisted I bring the ugliest poncho with me in case the weather turned bad - and I remember thinking how cool he was for being so thoughtful as to bring an extra poncho and extra umbrellas when all of my friends who had no shelter from the pouring rain were huddled thankfully in our extras. I remember not having my state project finished on time, and how much Dad yelled at me - while he stayed awake with me all night and helped me as much as he could while I finished it the night before it was due. As I grew older and went into high school and then college, my memories of Dad are more focused on boyfriends - how I hated that he never liked the ones I had - and later, how I understood why he didn't like them, and how loving he was while I went through heartbreaks and break ups. How wise my Dad is. How Dad chased after the gypsy girls who pick-pocketed my wallet out of my bag on a train in Italy, and got it back by showing them the "Angry Turk" they didn't want to mess with. How brave and ethical he is.

I have so many more memories, but those were the first that came to mind. Dad, I love you!

XOXO
Reminiscent Shawna

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