Happy Father's Day

[MacDragon]

Happy Father's Day to all who are fathers on here.  New England has some sun this morning... Time for a Father's Day ride. 

[5_19]

. Time for a Father's Day ride.  coolsmiley

Thanks, my plan exactly and the same to you. 

[Red Diamond]

Happy Father's Day, Let's Ride Safely.

[3fan4life]

One of my greatest pleasures has been taking rides and sharing my love of motorcycles with my son.

[old2soon]

Happy papas day to all yuse pops out there. Had a short ride today and i get to grill up the bratwurst i crave fer pops day meal. RIDE SAFE YA'LL.

[MacDragon]

And for those pups out there that are under 35... I'm old enough to be your father... by the way, what's your mom's name... you've got my eyes...

[Willow]

My father was born in October, 1925.  As soon as he graduated high school he entered the U.S. Navy as a flight training cadet.  The war ended just as he was completing flight training.

After the war he purchased a surplus SNJ for $600.  He owned it for his college years, but gave it up at my mother's wishes. 

When I was sixteen I bought my first motorcycle.  In those days there was not a separate motorcycle endorsement for motorcycle on the Oklahoma driver's license.  He rode, on occasion, that bike and the next two bikes that I owned.  After he was gone my little brother told me that he'd bought a motorcycle himself as a teenager, but my grandfather made him get rid of it before he'd even had a chance to ride it.  Odd, because my understanding was that my grandfather himself rode in his youth.

During my last few years at home my father gave in to an urge to find the skies again and renewed his flying, first as a member of a flying club and then as the owner of a Cherokee 140.  The few flights I took with him sparked my interest and at age twenty-four, I also learned to fly.  We lived three hundred miles apart at that time.  He allowed me to fly the Cherokee on multiple occasions, and twice he permitted me to keep the Cherokee for a time at my airport.  We ferried it to and from with each of us flying solo one direction and flying together on the middle trip.  Those were good times for me.

When I was thirty I called him to tell him my marriage was disintegrating.  He was the only person I wanted to talk to and he was the only one I would let hear me cry.  The irony in that is that he once said I frustrated him because I wouldn't cry when he spanked me.  I, too, practiced corporal punishment with my children and followed the same rule of stopping when the crying started.

It was especially difficult for me to see him weaken as age took its toll on him.  He was always strong in my memory.  He was intelligent and honest even when it didn't serve him well.  He would sacrifice his own well being without a second thought for his children and often for others.

He was and is my hero.  He will always be "Daddy" to me and when I think of him I'll always be his little boy.

I rode to his memorial service in January of 2006.  Below is a picture of him with my son and me in April of 2004.  He was fading by then.  His memory and awareness were spotty.  It may have been the last real conversation we had.

I hate that time steals the strength and the cognition, but it has not yet taken my memories.  On Fathers' Day I remember my father and I wish happiness and success to all the men who have poured themselves out for their families.

[MacDragon]

My father was born in October, 1925.  As soon as he graduated high school he entered the U.S. Navy as a flight training cadet.  The war ended just as he was completing flight training.

After the war he purchased a surplus SNJ for $600.  He owned it for his college years, but gave it up at my mother's wishes. 

When I was sixteen I bought my first motorcycle.  In those days there was not a separate motorcycle endorsement for motorcycle on the Oklahoma driver's license.  He rode, on occasion, that bike and the next two bikes that I owned.  After he was gone my little brother told me that he'd bought a motorcycle himself as a teenager, but my grandfather made him get rid of it before he'd even had a chance to ride it.  Odd, because my understanding was that my grandfather himself rode in his youth.

During my last few years at home my father gave in to an urge to find the skies again and renewed his flying, first as a member of a flying club and then as the owner of a Cherokee 140.  The few flights I took with him sparked my interest and at age twenty-four, I also learned to fly.  We lived three hundred miles apart at that time.  He allowed me to fly the Cherokee on multiple occasions, and twice he permitted me to keep the Cherokee for a time at my airport.  We ferried it to and from with each of us flying solo one direction and flying together on the middle trip.  Those were good times for me.

When I was thirty I called him to tell him my marriage was disintegrating.  He was the only person I wanted to talk to and he was the only one I would let hear me cry.  The irony in that is that he once said I frustrated him because I wouldn't cry when he spanked me.  I, too, practiced corporal punishment with my children and followed the same rule of stopping when the crying started.

It was especially difficult for me to see him weaken as age took its toll on him.  He was always strong in my memory.  He was intelligent and honest even when it didn't serve him well.  He would sacrifice his own well being without a second thought for his children and often for others.

He was and is my hero.  He will always be "Daddy" to me and when I think of him I'll always be his little boy.

I rode to his memorial service in January of 2006.  Below is a picture of him with my son and me in April of 2004.  He was fading by then.  His memory and awareness were spotty.  It may have been the last real conversation we had.

I hate that time steals the strength and the cognition, but it has not yet taken my memories.  On Fathers' Day I remember my father and I wish happiness and success to all the men who have poured themselves out for their families.

Great introduction to your dad Willow... In the pic you provided... I don't see age in your father's eyes... I see wisdom.  He has seen and experienced alot in his years and passed it on.  Happy Father's Day Willow..

[Stormrider65]

Great story Willow.  My father was in a rest home when he went to be with God and my mother.  Long story short, after my mother died, "little sister" forbid be to ever see my father again, or I would be arrested.  Found out later on she did an end around on me and took everything that Dad and Mom had before Dad passed.  She didn't want me to talk to Dad, fearing I would talk him out of her doings.  She "let" me see him on the day he died.  I didn't even know if I was in the right room or not.  He had withered away to nothing.  But I did tell him I loved him and would miss him.  6 hours later after I left he passed away.  The alzheimers and cancer plus other problems took him over.  My father and I were not close at all, but I still loved him and always will.  And I know for a fact that he loved me too.  Not doubt in my mind.   

I Miss You Dad

Walt