Coolest Dad In The Universe

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Coolest Dad in the Universe, The

by: Angie Ward-Kucer, Source Unknown

He was 50 years old when I was born, and a " Mr. Mom " long before

anyone had a name for it. I didn't know why he was home instead of

Mom, but I was young and the only one of my friends who had their dad

around. I considered myself very lucky.

Dad did so many things for me during my grade-school years. He

convinced the school bus driver to pick me up my house instead of the

usual bus stop that was six blocks away. He always had my lunch ready

for me when I came home - usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

that was shaped for the season. My favorite was at Christmas. The

sandwiches would be sprinkled with green sugar and cut in the shape

of a tree.

As I got a little older and tried to gain my independence, I wanted

to move away from those " childish " signs of his love. But he wasn't

going to give up. In high school and no longer able to go home for

lunch, I began taking my own. Dad would get up a little early and

make it for me. I never knew what to expect. The outside of the sack

might be covered with his rendering of a mountain scene (it became

his trademark) or a heart inscribed with " Dad-n-Angie K.K. " in its

center. Inside there would be a napkin with that same heart or an " I

love you. " Many times he would write a joke or a riddle, such as " Why

don't they ever call it a momsicle instead of a popsicle? " He always

had some silly saying to make me smile and let me know that he loved

me.

I used to hide my lunch so no one would see the bag or read the

napkin, but that didn't last long. One of my friends saw the napkin

one day, grabbed it, and passed it around the lunch room. My face

burned with embarrassment. To my astonishment, the next day all my

friends were waiting to see the napkin. From the way they acted, I

think they all wished they had someone who showed them that kind of

love. I was so proud to have him as my father. Throughout the rest of

my high school years, I received those napkins, and still have a

majority of them.

And still it didn't end. When I left home for college (the last one

to leave), I thought the messages would stop. But my friends and I

were glad that his gestures continued.

I missed seeing my dad every day after school and so I called him a

lot. My phone bills got to be pretty high. It didn't matter what we

said; I just wanted to hear his voice. We started a ritual during

that first year that stayed with us. After I said goodbye he always

said, " Angie? "

" Yes, Dad? " I'd reply.

" I love you. "

" I love you, too, Dad. "

I began getting letters almost every Friday. The front-desk staff

always knew who the letter were from - the return address said " The

Hunk. " Many times the envelopes were addressed in crayon, and along

with the enclosed letters were usually drawings of our cat and dog,

stick figures of him and Mom, and if I had been home the weekend

before, of me racing around town with friends and using the house as

a pit stop. He also had his mountain scene and the heart-encased

inscription, Dad-n-Angie K.K.

The mail was delivered every day right before lunch, so I'd have his

letters with me when I went to the cafeteria. I realized it was

useless to hide them because my roommate was a high school friend who

knew about his napkins. Soon it became a Friday afternoon ritual. I

would read the letters, and the drawing and envelope would be passed

around.

It was during this time that Dad became stricken with cancer. When

the letters didn't come on Friday, I knew that he had been sick and

wasn't able to write. He used to get up at 4:00a.m. so he could sit

in the quiet house and do his letters. If he missed his Friday

delivery, the letters would usually come a day or two later. But they

always came. My friends used to call him " Coolest Dad in the

Universe. " And one day they sent him a card bestowing that title,

signed by all of them. I believe he taught all of us about a father's

love. I wouldn't be surprised if my friends started sending napkins

to their children. He left an impression that would stay with them

and inspire them to give their own children their expression of their

love.

Throughout my four years of college, the letters and phone calls came

at regular intervals. But then the time came when I decided to come

home and be with him because he was growing sicker, and I knew that

our time together was limited. Those were the hardest days to go

through. To watch this man, who always acted so young, age past his

years. In the end he didn't recognize who I was and would call me the

name of a relative he hadn't seen in many years. Even though I knew

it was due to his illness, it still hurt that he couldn't remember my

name.

I was alone with him in his hospital room a couple of days before he

died. We held hands and watched TV. As I was getting ready to leave,

he said, " Angie? "

" Yes, Dad? "

" I love you. "

" I love you, too, Dad. "

source: http://www.inspirationalstories.com/5/585.html