Today is Father’s Day. So, just for today, I decided to pay tribute to my own Dad, whose gentle nature, keen sense of humour and strong sense of fair play helped shape me.  I offer it with a wish to all Fathers who celebrate this day to enjoy the day and know how much you are appreciated.


I was thinking about my father today.  It’s not an unusual thing.  Dad died a few years ago and yet, I don’t think a day goes by without my thoughts going his way.

I was born three years after the end of WWII. It was a time when men and women were readjusting to peacetime. During the war, men were away in Europe or in the Pacific Region, fighting, and women, by necessity, were doing “men’s jobs” at home. When the men returned, things, somewhat painfully, snapped back to pre-war culture, (otherwise known as “normal“) with men typically avoiding all things domestic, including the raising of children.

In our house though, things were a little different. For as long as I can remember, at least until she retired, my mother worked outside the home. It was unusual, given the culture of the time, but for my mother and father it was a necessity and that was all there was to that. They were a team.

Of course when I was little, I didn’t know, understand or care about any of that. All I knew was that it was my daddy who put me to bed every night. It was he who gave me my bath and allowed me to splash water all over him in the process. It was my Dad who sang “Three Little Fishes” to me while I was being bathed. And it was he who ran up the stairs several times each night just to give me another kiss goodnight.

Later, it was also my Dad, (a person who did not like shopping), who drove me from one mall to the other when I  needed cheering up. And, even when I was behaving badly or at odds with my parents, it was Dad who forgave me first. It was he who offered the first conciliatory hug and the reassurance that in spite of our differences, we would still be all right. He would still love me.

Now, many years later, I am so grateful that he was in my life. And, every now and then, I catch a glimpse of him in my son, Rob who is, himself, a fine Dad.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad…wherever you are.  I remember you today and will, every day… even if I live to be a hundred.

We probably all have a “Dad Story” of some kind.  What’s yours?  Care to share?



Filed under Father's Day

10 responses to “Dad

  1. Dear dear Gwyn: Thank you for the glimpse of Dad and for bringing me back to memories of my own while reading your post. We each and both had the good fortune to be “Daddy’s little girl”.

    • Gwyn Teatro

      Dear Anne ~ Thank you. Memories like this are meant to be shared. I’m more than glad that mine of my Dad evoked memories for you of your Dad. And yes, we are both lucky to have had them in our lives.

  2. Gwyn,
    Very touching story. I enjoyed reading it. I, too, have a daughter (30). The bond between father/daughter is my special treasure.

    I miss my Dad too. I wear the ring he returned with from India during WWII.


    • Gwyn Teatro

      Hi Larry ~ I rather think that the bond between you and your daughter is also a treasure for her. Happy Father’s Day to you 🙂

  3. My dad has always been my rock and my foundation. I don’t know how I will ever get along without him! Beautiful post, you made me cry.

    • Gwyn Teatro

      Hi Leslie ~ Your relationship with your Dad, because of the natural way of things, is bound to change one day but no matter what happens, the things you learn from him and the bond you share will always be a part of who you are. Your rock and your foundation will simply manifest itself a little differently. That’s my experience anyway. 🙂
      Thanks for your kind words.

  4. Thank you for writing this wonderful piece. It reminds me so much of my own relationship with my dad. What wonderful memories.

    • Gwyn Teatro

      Hi Lyn ~ I’m so glad my story evoked memories of your own. I love it when that happens. Thank you for that and for your kind words.

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