DAD

I was thinking about my Dad this morning. I got a phone call from one of those survey groups and as usual I was curious enough to say OK. I guess I like someone, or should I say anyone, asking my opinion (it's what happens if you are out of work for a while). Anyhow, the man asks me if I work. I said "yes, homemaker." He replies with, "housekeeper?" I couldn't help it but I said, "yes, housekeeper." Why not? I sure felt like one after the 5 loads of laundry I had to wake up early to do. That's when I remembered my dad. He was filling out some kind of document that asked his job position and my mom's. He writes in what he does and in the space for my mom he wrote housekeeper instead of Homemaker. She went ballistic.

He always had these quirky little things that he did that drove my mom nuts but always made us laugh. I remember her nagging him about calling an attorney for something. She would ask him everyday if he called and then finally, after a week or so, she asked him why he wasn't calling. He turned around, with the most innocent look, and said, "I am afraid to call him and not find him in the office." She almost killed him.

I hated getting in the car with him because he always got into accidents. One year for Eid Prayer (Muslim version of Christmas) he got so angry with me when he overheard me telling my mom he drove like a maniac. You see the word maniac means you are nuts in English but in Arabic it is a very bad word. I was speaking in English but he took it in the Arabic way and got so mad at me he literally flew off the handle. He took my mom and headed out the door and my brother and I finished our breakfast and left about a half an hour later. On our way to prayer there was so much traffic. When we finally got to the source of the traffic, it was my dad. Someone had rear ended him. It wasn't his fault but I still remember his face when he saw us passing. He pointed at me and at the exist. That meant I better not stop.
It was so funny. I could actually write ten posts about the creative accidents he would have.

I think about him a lot. Not that he has ever left me for a second. I watch his favorite shows on TV. I read from his books. I pray that God is taking good care of him. More than anything, I see him in myself. When most women become more and more like their mothers, I think that I am one of those that has become more and more like her dad. I miss you Dad.