|Bapa and Little Jack|
|My Parents at my Sister's Wedding Clearly Distraught about Giving Away Their Baby Girl|
My Dad always knew how to tell a story. I've spent the last two weeks trying to collect as many stories as I could. I plan on telling some on my blog every now and then. Some are better than others and some are ones that family and friends will smile and remember how perfectly my Dad told it.
It's hard for a lot of people to talk about him now as everyone is still in shock and the feeling is so raw. I remember that he rarely ever spoke about his own Father (who died in the 60's) and after my Nana died, he wouldn't talk about her that much either. The pain was too much. There were little things that he spoke of here and there and I held onto them. I want others to talk about my Dad, too. I know that life is supposed to be for the living but I don't want to let him go. I want to keep his memory alive and that includes all of the wonderful stories that he told, his sense of humor, his love for his family and friends and how much he gave of himself to those around him.
Dad told me that his own Father drove a taxi. He would call everyone, "Joe." He greeted them like they were buddies or old pals. My Dad was like that, too. Everyone was either "My buddy" or "Uncle". Dad's friends were always "Uncle John", "Uncle Warren", "Uncle Tom" to us. He always spoke highly of his friends. He loved them and they loved him.