To all the dad's out there.

skyraider

Veteran Expediter
US Navy
My Dad was a good man, although he did not talk much, well at least to me. I grew up in the 50's. By 1960 I was 14, so you see it was a different time zone then today's ideas of what a Dad is all about. The BBQ was a time I remember..........we were raised my our Moms .....the fifties -the neighborhood Dads played golf, bowling was big, the kids in our neighborhood did not play golf --it was an era of bicycles and swimming pools and lakes for us---the Moms in the neighborhood took us to the lakes and stuff-----Dads worked, Moms did the raising,,,,well that's the way I saw it and I'm 68 now.............................PS ,,,My grandfather took me fishing and some hunting, he is the one I remember for all that kind of stuff---Grandparents are not so stuffy imho. So now I'm a grandparent of 6,,,there is not enough hours in the day for 5 boys and a granddaughter--where does time gooooo.

Yes I take my grandsons to the range to shoot and we have a big time, fishing,,not their bag. We are into driving my car now,,,that's a big thrill for them..........there is still not enough time for 6..

Happy Fathers Day...................................
 

OntarioVanMan

Retired Expediter
Owner/Operator
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.....All the best Guys!!!!
 

aristotle

Veteran Expediter
When my son was a little boy, he ususally woke with a smile on his face, ready to embark on a new day of exploration and wonder. We had an extremely close bond, talking endlessly about every topic under the Sun. He was an accelerated learner who often astonished his teachers and his parents. Being a protective Dad, I would reach for his hand whenever we crossed a street or parking lot. By the time he was 5 or 6, it became instinctive for Ross to reach out for my hand first.

As he grew, days were filled with books, bicycles, sports and curiosity about girls. The years passed much too quickly. The driver's license came, high school graduation, college. Sometimes even now, whenever I cross a busy street, I feel an impulse to reach out for my little boy's hand. Of course, he isn't there. Life marches on. My son is a US Marine, probably thinking his feeble Dad needs help crossing traffic. I wouldn't have minded if our sons and daughters remained young children a bit longer.
 

Ragman

Veteran Expediter
Retired Expediter
When my son was a little boy, he ususally woke with a smile on his face, ready to embark on a new day of exploration and wonder. We had an extremely close bond, talking endlessly about every topic under the Sun. He was an accelerated learner who often astonished his teachers and his parents. Being a protective Dad, I would reach for his hand whenever we crossed a street or parking lot. By the time he was 5 or 6, it became instinctive for Ross to reach out for my hand first.

As he grew, days were filled with books, bicycles, sports and curiosity about girls. The years passed much too quickly. The driver's license came, high school graduation, college. Sometimes even now, whenever I cross a busy street, I feel an impulse to reach out for my little boy's hand. Of course, he isn't there. Life marches on. My son is a US Marine, probably thinking his feeble Dad needs help crossing traffic. I wouldn't have minded if our sons and daughters remained young children a bit longer.
Spoken like a proud father. ;)
 
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