I have so many beautiful memories of my father. He was SUCH an amazing dad.
He was well known in the Sluiter household and nationwide for his ability to make breakfast. He made many concoctions, and was the old school kind of guy who fried your eggs in the bacon grease.
Mmm…. So good.
Never mind his heart attack… I'm sure the two are unrelated :) [Sidenote: I'm pretty sure the bacon grease habit needed to stop after said heart attack. But it may or may not have.]
He was best known for his omelets. UH-MAY-ZING. I have yet to find a better omelet. Restaurants don't even compare. Not. Even. Close.
I remember so many summer Sunday mornings with my dad in front of the griddle, whether at home or on the boat. I know every step of his omelet making skills. And though I've tried to reproduce this delicacy, I fail every time. He pulled the craziest faces and expressions while he cooked (or fixed something on the boat, or talked.) So maybe that's what I'm missing. I've seen those faces on my brothers though… so maybe they have the omelet making gene.
Those omelets, with toast and bacon on the side? They tasted like home. Like comfort.
Like love.
I so clearly remember the last omelet I had from my dad. And it is the last time I remember feeling carefree and like I was home in his presence, despite the circumstances.
I used to go to all of his doctor's appointments when he was sick. He didn't need me to. He didn't ask me to. I just had to. I wanted to be there and hear first hand what the doctor's had to say. Plus, I was a recent college graduate with no job, so I had a little extra time on my hands to spend with him. Who could pass that up? On this day, we were in to see the radiologist. He was not wonderful.
We saw a lot of doctors who had to give us a lot of bad news. Most were compassionate and patient. Some even B.S.'d with my dad - which was his kind of doctor. But this guy? Didn't even have time to sit with us for 5 minutes after he told us the cancer had spread. It was everywhere and it wasn't slowing down. We could quit radiation because it wasn't working. He was cold, crass, and walked right out the door with more important things to do. He never even asked if we had questions.
I'm shaking my fist at that guy right now….
Afterwards we went to the boat. That was my dad's happy place.
Mine too.
I stayed the night there with him and my step mom. On the table that folds into a bed. Just like I did when I was a little girl. And in the morning, there were omelets. With bacon and toast.
Made by my daddy. With a smile and love and funny faces while he made them. No thoughts or talk of the day before. Just us. And I tasted home. And comfort.
And love.
------
Today marks David's first Father's Day. And I can't help but think of all the wonderful memories he's already made with his children. I feel so lucky to be on this journey called parenthood with him. It melts my heart that my two sweet boys get to call him daddy.
They get rocked by him at night. And snuggled by him. And hear stories from him.
And one day they'll have sweet memories like I do. It might not be about food. Or bacon grease. I think they're fondest memories with their daddy will involve a story on his lap. Or maybe a bike ride. Or baseball games. Or a million other things. Because that is what daddies do. They love their children, and instill the most amazingly warm memories for their children without even trying.
Happy Father's Day, David. I love you, and I am so proud of the father you are to our boys.
Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I miss you every day. I love you, and I cherish the memories we made.
And happy Father's Day to the rest of you fathers. To my brother Cort, who has raised two beautiful little boys. To my brother Cody, who has his first little one on the way. I know you will be a great dad because you had a great role model. To my step dad Ray, who has loved me as his own from day one, and is a wonderful grandpa to my boys. To David's dad, Wayne, who takes care of my sweet babies when I have to go to work. They have a special relationship with their Papa already.
And to all the daddies that love their babies and grandbabies.
You are treasured. Thank you.
Mmm…. So good.
Never mind his heart attack… I'm sure the two are unrelated :) [Sidenote: I'm pretty sure the bacon grease habit needed to stop after said heart attack. But it may or may not have.]
He was best known for his omelets. UH-MAY-ZING. I have yet to find a better omelet. Restaurants don't even compare. Not. Even. Close.
I remember so many summer Sunday mornings with my dad in front of the griddle, whether at home or on the boat. I know every step of his omelet making skills. And though I've tried to reproduce this delicacy, I fail every time. He pulled the craziest faces and expressions while he cooked (or fixed something on the boat, or talked.) So maybe that's what I'm missing. I've seen those faces on my brothers though… so maybe they have the omelet making gene.
Those omelets, with toast and bacon on the side? They tasted like home. Like comfort.
Like love.
I so clearly remember the last omelet I had from my dad. And it is the last time I remember feeling carefree and like I was home in his presence, despite the circumstances.
I used to go to all of his doctor's appointments when he was sick. He didn't need me to. He didn't ask me to. I just had to. I wanted to be there and hear first hand what the doctor's had to say. Plus, I was a recent college graduate with no job, so I had a little extra time on my hands to spend with him. Who could pass that up? On this day, we were in to see the radiologist. He was not wonderful.
We saw a lot of doctors who had to give us a lot of bad news. Most were compassionate and patient. Some even B.S.'d with my dad - which was his kind of doctor. But this guy? Didn't even have time to sit with us for 5 minutes after he told us the cancer had spread. It was everywhere and it wasn't slowing down. We could quit radiation because it wasn't working. He was cold, crass, and walked right out the door with more important things to do. He never even asked if we had questions.
I'm shaking my fist at that guy right now….
Afterwards we went to the boat. That was my dad's happy place.
Mine too.
I stayed the night there with him and my step mom. On the table that folds into a bed. Just like I did when I was a little girl. And in the morning, there were omelets. With bacon and toast.
Made by my daddy. With a smile and love and funny faces while he made them. No thoughts or talk of the day before. Just us. And I tasted home. And comfort.
And love.
------
Today marks David's first Father's Day. And I can't help but think of all the wonderful memories he's already made with his children. I feel so lucky to be on this journey called parenthood with him. It melts my heart that my two sweet boys get to call him daddy.
They get rocked by him at night. And snuggled by him. And hear stories from him.
And one day they'll have sweet memories like I do. It might not be about food. Or bacon grease. I think they're fondest memories with their daddy will involve a story on his lap. Or maybe a bike ride. Or baseball games. Or a million other things. Because that is what daddies do. They love their children, and instill the most amazingly warm memories for their children without even trying.
Happy Father's Day, David. I love you, and I am so proud of the father you are to our boys.
Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I miss you every day. I love you, and I cherish the memories we made.
And happy Father's Day to the rest of you fathers. To my brother Cort, who has raised two beautiful little boys. To my brother Cody, who has his first little one on the way. I know you will be a great dad because you had a great role model. To my step dad Ray, who has loved me as his own from day one, and is a wonderful grandpa to my boys. To David's dad, Wayne, who takes care of my sweet babies when I have to go to work. They have a special relationship with their Papa already.
And to all the daddies that love their babies and grandbabies.
You are treasured. Thank you.
5 comments:
Awe sis... this put a tear in my eye and a smile in my heart. So very true...and I totally miss those faces Pops would pull whenever he did...well, ANYTHING!
Love you all!
This is so perfect, Kenz. Happy Father's Day to Dave! And love to you (and your brothers) today.
It's hard every dang year, isn't it? But as Cort said in his post today? Being a Father brings your dad back a little.
Oh, and Cort DOES TOTALLY make those faces (and he makes a pretty good omelet...we will have to all have breakfast sometime so you can be the judge!)
love you!
What a beautiful post! Made me teary--happy heart sigh for you and your family.
well said precious girl. You obviously have been, will be and are loved. Your dad and grandpa are so proud of all of you kids! wouldn't they just love those boys of yours? I can just see both grandpa's jerking their chains and thinking it so funny!
Awwww what a cute post. and I have to say at first glance I thought the first picture of your dad was your brother (Cort).
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